


Loup Garou

by posingasme



Series: Pack Wars [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Benny, Alpha Castiel, Alpha Crowley, Alpha Dean Winchester, F/M, Gen, M/M, Omega Bobby, Omega Sam Winchester, Pack Dynamics, PackWars!verse, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-09-22 20:07:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 32,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9623477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/posingasme/pseuds/posingasme
Summary: Michael Argos is no longer the threat that keeps Dean and his pack from resting easily, but his brother Raphael is becoming more dangerous than even that mad wolf. And rumor has it that he's made an alliance with the dark Worgs, led by a sinister, intelligent wolf who clawed his way to the top of the nastiest pack. This does not sit well with Dean, and he sends his brothers to investigate.





	1. Loup Garou

In the time before the humans had learned to use firearms, before they had walled their cities and put iron tipped with silver up in their defense, a bastard child of Lycan, the first shifter, terrorized the nights. Chalons was hated by Lycan shifters and feared by the humans like no other. He belonged to a small pack whose name was Garou, and he was hardly the highest ranked among them at birth. But Chalons was deadly, ambitious, and quite mad, and by all accounts, he was a fine tailor as well. Sewing shreds of silver into the clothing of the family of the true Garou, and thereby slowly and untraceably poisoning them to death, was just his first act. He was an accomplished butcher as well, and at the time of his death, after working his way through the ranks using cunning and vicious brutality, the high alpha was found to have kept a collection of bleached human and shifter bones as trophies in his tent. Under his reign of malice, the Dread Tailor King, as they called him, changed the relationship between wolves and humans for a thousand generations. Chalons was the thing that stalked the night, and his worgs apologized for nothing. Even the mighty Argos left them alone to fester in their foul fury.

Lycan was the fickle lap dog of Fenris, and that first shifter left to serve Cerebus when he howled for him. Chalons was no such servant. He provided for himself and those who pleased him, not any god, and certainly no other mortal wolf. After his death, the Vargr, the name of the new pack Chalons had formed of what remained of the Garou, chose their king from among the most cunning and coldest of wolves, not from bloodline. Bloodlines were for dogs like the Argos, who bowed at the feet of Fenris, or the Lenore, whose lineage spanned even before Fenris and Cerebus had walked the world. Callous brutality was rewarded among the Vargr.

That was why Lucifer Argos had sought them out as allies years ago, and it was why that arrangement had ended very badly for the castoff prince. The current leader of the Vargr was Crowley. He had become king by eliminating threats and rivals such as Lucifer in a way Chalons himself would have admired. So now that Raphael Argos was seeking an alliance, Crowley felt confident he could handle this Lycan dog too. It was hard to believe the Argos princes had not caught on to this folly by now.

The one high alpha Crowley did not like to underestimate was Dean Winchester, the denim-clad nightmare who held territory closeby. There was something quite fascinating about the pack alpha. He was peaceful, in that he never pursued territory outside his own lands, yet he handled any threat to his own land like an avatar of Cerebus Himself. He had close ties, familial ties, if Crowley was correct, to a dozen or more small packs throughout the region.

When the Lenore had come down like a storm on the Pastor pack not long ago, several small packs he knew allied with Winchester had smashed them completely. Raphael had told him he was crazy, but Crowley had studied the tactics used against the unfortunate Lenore, and it stank of Winchester. Then the high alpha of the original Argos clan had been shredded and shot full of silver in his own bedchamber, and they could say it was Gabriel and the former Claw all they liked, but Crowley smelled Winchester on this as well. After all, it was said that the former Claw was making a bedroll out of Dean's omega brother these days.

Raphael said no; it had been Gabriel, and Crowley had not argued the point.

He shook his head thoughtfully. It seemed to him that he was the only one who did not underestimate the alpha who emerged from his camp only to smash his enemies like a knight of Cerebus.

Chalons knew, Crowley was a survivor. Alliances came and went, as did packs and their alphas. One day, everything else would burn, but Crowley Vargr was forever.

***

Castiel stretched and sighed with  contentment. He took a deep breath through his nose, let his sweet omega’s scent fill him with peace and comfort. Finally, he turned toward him, and his eyes opened lazily. He chuckled at Sam's enormous gray wolf lying on his back, all four paws in the air, and belly exposed in all its delicious glory. The alpha snuggled his nose into that soft belly, only to find Sam curling in to capture his snout in a full-body hug.

The huge omega shifted, but did not release his lover. Instead, he held on tighter, and laughed when Castiel whined at him. “No,” he said, “that's what you get for waking me up with a cold nose!”

Castiel wriggled free, and tilted his dark head.

“You're not innocent. You've never been innocent. Don't pretend. You're a terrible actor.”

The eyes narrowed.

Sam pulled him down onto his chest, and nuzzled his neck. “Cas? Shift and hold me.”

The request was met instantly. Castiel's strong arms enveloped him without hesitation. “Are you all right, beloved?”

“I'm still very tired. Not sleepy. Just worn out.”

“You've got a right to be,” Castiel told him. “You've been a busy pup, what with all the toppling of dynasties and such.” He lowered his mouth to Sam's neck. “Besides, being so beautiful must be exhausting.”

“It is,” Sam laughed with quiet delight.

Even through the humor, Sam’s devotion shone in his hazel eyes. Castiel found it irresistible. He kissed him all over his face and neck and collarbone. “Are you aware, omega mine, that I'm the happiest wolf who ever lived?”

Sam sighed with contentment. “Are you aware, my alpha, that I wake up every dusk with the mission of making that so?”

“There's no doubting it.”

They lay together in the quiet for long minutes before finally succumbing to restlessness. Sam stood to retrieve their robes, holding Castiel's for him to thread his arms through.

But Castiel shook his head. “I feel like we should dress.”

Sam watched him, and then lowered his gaze comfortably. “Why? Are we leaving the camp?”

He shrugged, and began pulling human clothes from the wooden trunk at the entrance to the tent. “I don't know. I was a city mutt for a long time, Sam. I still sometimes feel exposed without clothing.”

It was an embarrassing thing to admit, but when he looked up, Sam was shaking his head. The omega put his hand on Castiel's cheek and looked down at him intently. “You were never a city mutt, Cas. Just because you adapted to the life, and developed some of their habits, that doesn't mean you aren't every bit the wolf my cousins are.”

Castiel smiled at him gratefully. “It is nice to shift whenever I feel like it,” he added. “In the city, I sometimes went days without spending any time in my wolf.”

“You still shift to two legs sometimes while you sleep,” Sam pointed out gently.

He cringed. “I'm sorry, my love. It's no wonder you don't get enough rest.”

Sam laughed then, and pulled on his own clothes. “You kidding? At least you don't wrestle in your sleep. I shared a bedroll with Dean my whole life. I nearly had to suffocate him plenty of times. It's only because of my impressive restraint that Christian isn't pack alpha right now.”

Castiel smiled. But he felt a change as Sam remembered the loss of his cousin. “Christian was a good wolf too,” he said generously.

The eyes were a soft gray now. It never ceased to intrigue Castiel the way Sam's eyes seemed to change with his mood or the lighting. He was only just beginning to learn to read them at a glance. “Yeah. Dean used to call him more of a jackass than a wolf.”

He smirked sourly. “Gabriel says I'm more cat than wolf.”

“A cat!” Sam's eyes widened. “A cat?”

“I don't know. I countered once that he was more like a fox, and he somehow took it as a compliment.”

Sam laughed again, and his alpha was relieved to see the green sparkle returning to his gaze.

They emerged from the tent just in time to see a pup fly by the entrance. Castiel leapt back, but Sam tossed his large hand out and snatched it right off its stride.

“Whoa! Where's the fire, Aidan?”

The little alpha wriggled in his grasp, and then resorted to growling. Castiel frowned as the pup bared his teeth. He took it from Sam and swatted its little ear. “Impertinent little beast,” he snapped. “If you can't behave with respect for your pack omegas, and you'd rather act like a brute, you can try showing me those teeth instead, unless your older cousin prefers to knock them out himself.”

Sam snorted.

The pup’s eyes widened in alarm.

Castiel set him on the ground. “Shift and answer the question, unless you'd like to find out what happens when you threaten a warrior’s omega or a warrior omega.”

The little wolf twisted awkwardly into his boy. He whined. “I'm sorry, alpha!” he squeaked.

The older wolf hummed in irritation. “Not so mighty without your teeth.”

Sam smirked at him, and lowered himself to the tiny alpha’s height. “What's wrong?”

“Krissy bit me, and then cousin Jo called it my fault, and said she was gonna shred my hide!”

Sam was trying not to laugh now. He looked back from where the pup had run. “Nobody seems to be chasing, Aidan.”

The little pup looked for himself. “Oh.”

“You know how many times Jo’s threatened to shred our high alpha’s hide?”

Both Aidan and Castiel let their eyes go wide. “Dean?” Aidan breathed in horror. “Cousin Jo said she'd shred Dean?”

Sam nodded. “I think you better apologize to Krissy for whatever it is that made her want to bite. It'll be safer for everyone.”

“Yes, Sam,” he sighed miserably.

“And get used to it, kiddo. She's a tough little bitch, and her daddy is high alpha. If you're going to insist on being her best friend, you're in for a dangerous puphood.”

Aidan nodded. “Because Dean will kill me?”

“No,” a deep voice said behind them. “She will. I'll just let her.”

Castiel smelled the utter terror on the little alpha, and he nearly felt sorry for it. “Go on,” he nudged. “And show respect.”

“Yes, cousin,” he sighed.

When the little beast had hurried away, Dean turned to his brothers. “Might have to maul that furball one day,” he muttered.

“Like you said,” Sam reminded him, “Krissy’s just as likely to do it herself. I don't think you have much to worry about.”

Dean’s narrowed eyes stared after the pup for another moment, then he cleared his throat. “Glad you're dressed.”

“You are too,” Castiel noticed.

The high alpha was in a pair of jeans and a black tee, with his olive canvas jacket that seemed far too warm. “Yeah,” he barked. “We got work to do. I need to reinforce some splinters. I don't like to leave them short like some of them are.”

Sam's gaze was respectfully low, but he was frowning. “You're sending us to a splinter?”

“Border pack, out by Lenore.” Dean sighed. “Out near where Lenore used to be,” he corrected. “You're just scouting for those I'm transferring over to Trenton. Cole will be just a night behind you.”

Castiel looked at his omega fretfully. “I'll go, but let Sam stay to rest. I promise I'll-”

“You'll do as you're told, just as he will,” Dean snapped. “You think I'm sending him because of you? I'm sending you because of him. There's any trouble out there, I need to know, and his nose will tell me. I'm sending you as his guard, and because I ain't got time for one of my fighters to sit around moping because his omega is a few packs away. You might as well be useful and keep my brother in one piece. Lots of Argos mongrels would like to get their paws on him.”

Castiel realized he was staring, so he dropped his eyes respectfully. “Yes, alpha.”

Sam, on the other hand, gave Dean a sharp look. “Don't be a cur.”

Dean sighed. “I'm sorry. I don't have time to repeat orders, or to explain them. And I know you're worn thin, Sammy, but I need you.”

It was all he would ever have to say to his brother, Castiel knew. And he felt sufficiently chastised himself. “Dean, you know I'll carry out your orders to my dying day. Please never doubt it.”

His high alpha laughed wearily. “I know, brother.”

“I also know better than to presume you haven't thought of the best use of every member of your team, and that you've also considered your brother's wellbeing. Forgive me.”

“It's all right, Cas. I'm no Michael. I don't mind a little back bark when it’s from a wolf who has his heart in the right place.”

Castiel bowed his head to his commander. “My heart is always with Sam,” he swore.

Dean snorted. “I know. That's why there's nobody I trust to look out for this big pain in my ass like I trust you.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, but spoke softly. “I'm scouting to Trenton. But you want us dressed?”

Castiel smiled at his lover with pride. Leave it to Sam to be the one to notice that. His was a clever omega.

The older brother shrugged. “I'll leave it up to you. But if you run in your wolves, you'll need to wear a harness. I've got a few tasks for you along the way.”

He received two nods. “When will we leave?”

Dean looked up at the moon, and did a quick calculation. “Let it get darker by two hours. If there are any wolves out there thinking of causing trouble, I want you to have the advantage. Go to Gwen for some scent mask. Take enough to get you to Harvelle.”

Castiel could see the map in his head, and he narrowed his eyes at Dean, but dared not question him again. On the other hand, Sam made a sound of annoyance. “Bring this into a tent,” he hissed.

For some reason, Dean was glaring stubbornly. “I won't.”

“Then I'm going to back bark you in front of your pack,” Sam warned in a whisper.

“I'll take your ear,” Dean shot back.

Castiel looked around them. “No one is even listening,” he pointed out in confusion.

The brothers did not seem to hear him.

“Cole won't be going to Harvelle's. He's going straight to Trenton, with whichever wolves you give him. So your scout needs to take the same route.”

“You can't handle a straight run to Trenton,” Dean snarled.

Castiel's eyes widened.

“Either I can scout or I can't. I will not do this halfway.”

“You'll do as I tell you!”

“I'll do as you need me to, whether or not it's what you tell-”

“I need you to scout, but I don't need you to kill yourself to do it! You'll need to rest in Harvelle. And if you can't do the rest of the run, Ellen will send one of her scouts in your place, and when you're ready, you come back home.”

Sam’s hands flew up. “If you think I'm going to veer off the route Cole is going to take, you're crazy. What's the point in a scout who doesn't scout the same route his wolves are taking?”

Castiel looked between them. It was so alien to him, even after his time in this camp, that an omega would dare contradict any alpha, let alone the high alpha in this way. It made him nervous, and he couldn't help stepping toward Sam with an instinct to protect him. Michael would have destroyed the big wolf by now.

But Dean was considering. His teeth had been dropping in irritation, but he retracted them now. “Sammy, I trust your judgement. If you think you two can make a straight run for Trenton’s, on two boots or on four paws with a harness, fine.” His eyes flashed dark green with emotion suddenly. “But you let anything happen to you, and I swear to Fenris I will never forgive you.”

At last, Castiel understood. He sighed sadly. “Dean, you're exhausted. When did you last get a full day’s rest?” His voice was soft and respectful.

Sam glanced at his alpha in surprise, but he said nothing.

It struck Castiel that for an instant, it had looked as though Dean were fighting back tears. It was gone with a blink, but he felt sure it had been there. Instead, Dean scowled at him. “You're presumptuous, city mutt. Prepare for your mission. Go.”

As he stormed away, Castiel saw a large black wolf pad after him from a distance. It met Castiel's eyes, then turned his stare back to the high alpha he was stalking.

Castiel touched Sam's fingers with his own. “Benny's worried about him too,” he murmured.

Sam was frowning when he looked back at him. “How did you know he was…”

The older wolf took Sam's hand to lead him back into their tent. “You can't smell it?” he said curiously.

“I can,” Sam confirmed. “But he's got scent mask on. It's beginning to wear off, but even still...No offense, my love, but your nose can't pick that up.”

He supposed he should get indignant about that, but Sam was right. “No,” he admitted. “But some of his motions...He hides it well, but his eyes give him away. The way he motions with his eyes isn't right. And he knows it.”

“I don't understand.”

“Sam, alphas are constantly assessing movement or the lack of it. Every motion from another alpha means something. It's instinctive. Generally it's an automatic sort of thing to communicate between two alphas. Benny sees it too. Dean’s having to consciously remember to establish his dominance. He's so tired that he's not able to rely on that reflex.”

The big omega sighed and sat on their bedroll hard. “It isn't just that. He’s not confident in his orders. That's why he's defensive. Why he was posturing with you. He's afraid he's wrong.”

Castiel shook his head. “I don't see why. He just toppled a rival when he took out Michael Argos. He's gained something of an ally in Gabriel, especially with Dean’s kindness to little Samandriel and his mercy for Balthazar. His plans have seemed sound. They've been rewarded with success.”

Sam was nodding slowly. “Then why is he wearing scent mask among his own pack? Why is he afraid of me smelling what he's really feeling?”

A thought occurred to the older wolf then, and he frowned. “You don't think…”

“That's why he's sending me away? I don't know. But he is. We've got a long hike ahead of us by two hours. Let's rest more while we can.”

It was evidence of Sam's weariness that he was able to fall back to sleep. Castiel held him, and stroked his soft gray fur absently, but he could not keep his mind from turning over this puzzle in his head.


	2. Golden-Seal

They had settled on traveling on four feet with a harness. After all, it was just the two of them. They could shift to walk as men when they wanted to. Castiel carried robes and moccasins in his pouch. Being barefoot on two legs while scouting across difficult terrain was never a good idea, but boots were too awkward to carry in a halter, and they had other small items which needed to be delivered to splinter packs along the run.

Benny had made a special request of them as well. “Don't hurt yourself looking for it. But if you happen over some bit of golden-seal, I'd be obliged if you could see your way to picking and drying as much as you feel like carrying. Gwen says she's got a tea drink that could do that little hurt omega cousin a world of good, and it doesn't grow around here. I thought I saw some partway between Tran and Harvelle last time I made the trip. I'm also asking Tamara and Isaac to ask about for it when they travel.”

Castiel had stared at the big brute as if he were speaking a language he didn't know. “What sort of seal is this?”

Benny blinked at him. “Golden-seal.”

“Yes, I imagine that's the metal it's made of. But what is it?”

Very slowly, Benny looked at Sam. “You got a lot to teach this city mutt, little brother.”

Sam had laughed and taken Castiel's hand. “We’ll do what we can, Benny. Come on. I'll tell you about herbs as we go.”

Castiel nodded, then turned back. “Cousin, you're stalking Dean.”

“Ain't subtle, is he?” Benny chided softly to Sam. “Yeah, I'm keeping eyes on him. And so are you sometimes.”

“But you know him better. Is he all right?”

A wry smile crossed Benny's eyes. “Who, the avatar of Cerebus? He's always all right. Immortal, you know. Don't believe me, just ask him.”

Castiel nodded again. “You're a good friend to take care of him. And little Samandriel too. Perhaps you'll make a good father to some pups one day.”

Benny's eyes widened in alarm. “Now-now hold on. I'm not even-Gwen and I just got mated at the-the moon, and I don't think…”

Sam reached out and touched the big alpha’s cheek. “You'd be an excellent father. We’ll see you soon.”

With that, they left the startled wolf at his sentry post, and shifted down, adjusted one another's halter straps with their teeth, then began their journey.

No matter the issues which surrounded their mission, it was a pleasure to run together, just the two of them. Castiel let Sam take the lead, as Sam had suspected he would. Not only did the big omega know the route and terrain better, but Castiel had come to trust his nose and instincts as well. But the dark wolf never allowed more than a few paces to grow between them, and his ears were always sharp.

They had traveled well for nearly two hours, when Sam began to fight fatigue. Instead of admit it, however, he huffed at Castiel and slowed to snuggle into him as they ran. Pleasure lit the dark wolf’s eyes, and he leaned against Sam in return. They shoved playfully at one another, until finally they were stopped and wrestling in long grass.

Sam watched from below how Castiel's eyes changed from peacefully content to lustful in an instant when Sam licked at his alpha’s mouth. It was a gesture howlers used to show submission to a stronger wolf, and it never failed to gain Castiel's interest.

Making love in their wolves was always a delight, but in the grass, under the breaking dawn, it was euphoric. Sam was entirely exhausted after, and lay curled into his lover in comfort and warmth. Sam didn't often give his alpha the opportunity to take care of him, but after such a moon cycle as they had experienced, and a night of running, he was perfectly content to let Castiel lay awake to watch over him as he slept.

At some point in the early day, Castiel shifted, and sat up. He held Sam's head in his lap, and stroked the gray fur lovingly. Sam could hear him sighing, and was about to open his eyes when the older wolf began to speak softly.

“I love you so dearly, Sam,” he whispered.

It was clear that he thought Sam was still asleep, and the fatigue was heavy enough to make that nearly so.

“You are the best of me. I don't know how to show you. I know only fighting and politics. I realize that now. You can teach me about herbs, my love, but you must know that I know nothing but destruction. I look at Samandriel, and I wonder if I could have been the one to do those things to him, under Michael's orders. Could I? If I were still Michael's Claw, could I have mauled that poor pup? And killed those alpha babies? Killed Hester, then Inias? I know I'd have done that. But the pups and Samandriel?”

Sam gave a tiny whine at the grief he felt from his alpha.

“Shh,” Castiel soothed. “I'm sorry. Sleep, you sweet beast. I don't mean to disturb you. I just want one day to deserve you. You're everything I'm not. Noble, proud omega. Be patient with me, Sam. I will learn. I promise.”

His stubborn, aching muscles refused to let him lift his head or speak, and Castiel's gentle hand in the fur at his neck eased him back to sleep, with the smell of safety and nature around them.


	3. Et tu, Brute?

By noon, the desperation was so high that Dean actually whimpered. It was humiliating, even if he was the only one who could hear. It was especially humiliating, then, that he wasn't. 

His blood mate shifted and took his paw in her hands. “Dean,” she sighed. 

He closed his eyes tightly. 

Lisa ran her claws through his fur. “We should go to Gwen for some herbs. She's discrete. She won't-”

“And risk Benny hearing about it in the bedroll?” Dean snarled after shifting in frustration. 

She smirked. “From what I hear, Benny hasn't even made it into the tent yet.”

The alpha shook his head. “No. I won't go to Gwen, or anyone else. If I could have kept it from you, I would have.”

The merciless tone in his voice made her frown. “That's not how our mating works, Dean. It's not how it's ever worked. We tell one another everything.”

He dropped his head into his hands. “Yeah. I know. But this is...this is weakness, plain and simple. I have to pull this together. There's too much to do. My pack needs me.”

“Dean, you came to get me yesterday because you haven't slept in three days. This makes four. Benny and Travis and the others can handle things for a night or two. You're sick or something, and berating yourself for it isn't helping. You haven't truly slept in a quarter moon.”

“But before, it was by choice. I was busy. Now I can't. What's wrong with me?”

“Stress, probably. Come on. Curl up with me again.”

“It isn't working.”

She sighed in exasperation. “Then call your brother back and make him bed down with you. That's probably it, you know. You're not used to sleeping alone.”

“I'm not a pup.”

“And you're not Cerebus either,” she responded. “You haven't ever pulled me out of the den tent, Dean. You've visited us yourself, but you never asked me to bed down in your tent before. And you've always had your brother. You're stressed, maybe getting sick, and you're missing your brother. There's nothing wrong with that.”

Dean snorted derisively. “Everything is wrong with that. I'm pack alpha, Lise. I can't be begging my blood mate to curl up with me all day, and I certainly can't call my brother back from a scouting task to help me sleep. My pack needs me to be above those comforts. And I am. I like sleeping with you and the pups, but I don't need it. I shouldn't need it. And I definitely shouldn't need my pups’ mother more than they do.” He pushed himself to stand and grab a robe. “It isn't working anyway. My skin is crawling under my fur. I'm so tired that it hurts. Everywhere.”

Lisa chewed on her pretty lip carefully. “Dean? What if there really is something wrong?”

He shook his head. “I'm fine. The humans call it insomnia, when they can't sleep at night. I read it in one of Garth's books. It's fine. I just need to give it time.”

“Wolves don't get insomnia.”

“Apparently this one does,” he snapped. “Go on back to your tent. There's no reason we should both lose sleep. You need some too.”

She kissed him gently, robed, and moved to the tent entrance. “I love you.”

At last, Dean smiled. “I'm sorry I'm a pain in the ass.”

Her shrug made the white fabric dance around her lovely figure. “I'm used to it. If you think you can be still, you can join us later. But I'll take your ear if you're so restless that you wake up your little alpha brats.”

He gave her a small laugh. “Yes, Mama.”

She lifted an eyebrow at him, then disappeared from his tent. 

It immediately felt cold without her. Dean ran a hand over his face, and yawned miserably. He could only remember bits of the conversation he had just had with his blood mate. He was losing his mind. 

Every part of him ached with the need for sleep. He had never gone so long without it. He often took just four or five hours in the heat of the day, but he needed those hours. And it wasn't lack of company that was at fault. He had called Lisa in as a desperate measure, but he had known it wouldn't work. Cole had gently broached the subject of Dean choosing an omega, and Dean had nearly bitten his head off. But if even Trenton, who only saw Dean once a year for a formal moon, had noticed he wasn't himself, it meant the whole pack was probably aware. 

Castiel had noticed. And his scent mask couldn't hide him from Sam's nose. Sam could smell the uncertainty, and his alpha could see it in the way Dean struggled to stay in a position of dominance, when all he really wanted to do was collapse. If Christian could have seen him today, he might have made another bid for the high alpha title, and Dean might have let him. 

He couldn't trust his ears. Sometime during the middle of the day, he began to hear things he knew were not real. He was wandering the quiet camp, and he could see there was nothing wrong, but his ears pricked with paranoia. Even his nose sought to confuse him. 

Why had he sent Sam away? Yes, the route to Trenton needed to be scouted. Yes, Sam was his best scout. But there were others who could have done the work. Cole himself had suggested sending two of his alpha trainees, Adam and Jake. 

But Dean had insisted on Sam. He was unsure of every order, so he had to use his best wolves. And for this job, that was Sam. 

“Benny, come on out,” he sighed, about an hour into his aimless wandering. 

The dark beast padded out of the shadows to sit in front of his alpha. There was defiance in his blue eyes, ready to take any harsh words or punishment Dean would bark at him. 

“You're stalking me,” he accused in a tone that gave away his fatigue. 

Benny blinked, then lowered his head in confirmation. 

“Come on, brother. Shift. Tell me why you aren't asleep.”

“You know why,” Benny murmured after a silent transformation. “Because you aren't asleep.”

Dean smiled. “You can't do this, Benny. You gotta sleep, man. Who knows what tonight will bring? I can't have my best fighters falling out when I need them. I should order you to a bedroll. But instead, I'm just asking.”

“And I hate to, alpha, but I'm gonna have to decline.”

He sighed. “Back bark? Even you, brother?”

The brute shrugged, and scratched at his neck. “I once broke my pack alpha’s neck in my teeth, Dean. Don't act surprised that I ain't real obedient. You knew that before you were elevated yourself.”

A genuine, if weary, laugh filled the air between them. “Yeah, well, I'm not Old Man Lafitte, and you're the most loyal wolf I got, so you tell me why I have to make it an order before you'll go sleep.”

Benny took a deep breath. “Because my alpha ain't right. And he's my brother before he's my alpha, and I'll take my lumps if you gotta give me them, but otherwise, I'm not leaving your side till whatever's wrong gets healed. You ain't right, and that's just a fact. Don't order me to leave you when I feel that in my soul.”

Affection mixed with fear in Dean's heart. He swallowed, and nodded. “What exactly are you feeling, Benny?”

The big wolf frowned in concentration. “I don't know,” he admitted. “But if I thought it was just you losing a few hours sleep, I'd leave you be. It isn't just that. There's something...You just ain't right. And it isn't some fever or any such. Something's eating at you that I can't see or smell, but it's there. And I'm not leaving it alone with you.”

Dean put his hand on the beast’s arm. “Then dress and come with me. If neither of us is going to sleep, we may as well check the perimeter and mend some fencing.”

Benny shifted down without a word, and rushed back to his own tent for jeans and boots. Dean watched him go with a fond smile, but his heart was beginning to race in his chest. Benny's instincts were rarely off. Just like Sam's nose, Dean had learned years ago that the dark wolf had intuition that normal shifters didn't, probably because of his time spent among a howler pack as a pup. 

If Benny thought something about Dean wasn't right, then clearly something about him was very wrong.


	4. Shifting Loyalties

Beyond Tran, they were sure to avoid any territory claimed by Argos. They took the path they knew Cole and his wolves would take, skirting the territory borders to save time, but staying well within friendly land. They found bits of golden-seal, and Sam taught Castiel about the various herbs that could be found across Winchester pack land.

“Do you ever use human medicines?”

Sam shrugged. He was walking through tall grasses and wildflowers in his white robe and moccasins, and Castiel couldn't take his eyes off him. The breeze was light, but enough to move the omega’s soft hair.

It made a breathtaking picture, an idyllic scene Castiel had never known to want before now.

“We do if we need to. But most of it isn't compatible. Didn't Argos ever need to go to a human surgeon or something?”

“Yes, in extreme cases. But I didn't know other packs did.”

Sam nodded, and reached down to pick a yellow flower to place in his pouch. “We have our own caretakers. They can sew up a wound or even remove a paw if necessary, but for some things, it's better to give in and get a pass to the city.”

“Remove a paw!” Castiel cried. “Why would you ever do that?”

“If a paw gets too infected, it's got to come off. I've only seen it once. I thought they were going to have to do it for Travis after the white wolves attacked. But Linda was able to save it.”

“Why would...I don't understand.”

Sam looked up, and narrowed his eyes. “Cas? What do they do over at Argos if a wolf's paw got infected? If he developed kit’s claw or something, from working in his wolf in the mud?”

“Kit’s claw! If a case of kit’s claw becomes infected, it's fatal! You put the wolf down!” Castiel took a deep breath. “That...that is…”

“It isn't fatal,” Sam said quietly. “And we would never put down a good wolf if we didn't need to. We don't let wolves suffer, but we don't kill them for having the bad luck to develop a problem. We treat them. Then we find work for them that suits their new circumstances.”

Castiel cleared his throat. “Benny is right. I still have a lot to learn.”

“Lycan,” Sam swore in a soft voice. “How do so many Argos even live to adulthood?”

A sadness warmed his cheeks, and he shook his head. “A lot of us don't,” he admitted. “My litter was made of four alphas, two females and an omega. Only Balthazar and I remain among those alphas. The omega died of a sickness before he even had a name. And one of the females wasn't even out of her pup yet before she had been killed by Raphael in a moment of annoyance.”

“Raphael mauled your littermate? As a pup?”

“I barely knew her. Females and omegas remain in the den, but alphas are placed in the barracks before we can form attachments to anyone but one another. And true Argos wolves in particular are isolated from the rest. Ion and Esper were each wounded in the war with Lucifer, and they were unable to heal.”

Those empathetic eyes softened. “I'm sorry, Cas. Did the caretakers-”

“There were no caretakers,” Castiel snapped suddenly. He felt cold for no reason. “A warrior will tend to his own wounds, and survive them to fight for the family again, or die an honorable death in private reflection. That is the way it has always been.”

Sam's gaze dropped, and he went silent in the wake of his alpha’s abrupt anger.

The older wolf turned away from his beautiful omega. “We should shift. We have spent enough time on Benny’s errand. We have a task assigned to us by the high alpha. It isn't right to tarry in our work.” With that, he stepped from his moccasins and disrobed to drop onto all fours. He stared ahead of them resolutely.

His omega packed away their things onto Castiel's harness before shifting himself. While he remained in his upright form, he gave a soft sigh. “Cas, our ways of being honorable don't include wolves needlessly suffering alone.” He touched the dark fur gently. “We treasure our family, Cas, because they are family, not for what they can do for us. I'm sorry about your littermates. If ever you want to tell me about them, I would like to hear.”

Pain and anger struck him deep in his chest. His omega was intuitive in ways that he still had yet to understand. Sam knew he wasn't angry with him. The longer he was with the Winchesters, the more the way he had been raised felt wrong. He was beginning to wonder if his ability to fight was the only good thing which had come from his own family. And he was beginning to resent those feelings.

It was painful to remember the way his brothers had suffered at the end. He had been away himself, leading a garrison into battle against Lucifer's rebels, alongside Balthazar’s wolves. That was before Michael had pulled him for a mission with Gabriel, to assassinate Lucifer's private guard and the true Argos himself. But when news came to him, slowly as it always did within Michael's difficult hierarchy, that Ion and Esper had died of their wounds, he wanted badly to howl for them in grief.

But the mourning howl, which was so deeply instinctive among shifters, was denied him. Argos warriors were to accept honorable death, their own and those of their loved ones, with pride and not grief. Castiel dutifully forced down the howl which would purge his sad heart, and never let it slip out. Once, when he and Balthazar had been drinking out on the edge of the territory, he let slip how painful it had been to swallow that howl. Balthazar had smiled tightly, and nodded. He had been unable to vocalize it, but Castiel knew he felt the same, and that was something of a comfort.

If they had been Winchester wolves, Ion and Esper might still be alive.

His heart fractured in exactly the same way it had when he had finally allowed himself to admit that it had to have been Michael who had mauled his blood mate Anna, who had ended his line.

They had reached the forest by an hour before Castiel made himself shift again.

Sam quietly did the same, and prepared their robes and moccasins with low eyes.

When they were robed and shod, Castiel heaved a sigh, and wrapped his arms around his omega. He dipped his head into Sam's chest, which he would never do in the presence of any other wolf, but which felt so comforting and right. “I'm sorry, Sam,” he muttered.

His big omega held him and rested his own chin on top of the dark hair. “I know. It's all right. Cas, it's going to keep happening, you discovering that we do things differently than your old pack. But yours is one of the oldest, noblest bloodlines among shifters. It's all right to be proud of that. You can recognize the things they got wrong while still being proud to be who you are.”

Blue eyes blinked up at him. “How do you always know what I need?”

“I'm your omega, Cas,” he said simply.

Castiel pushed his fingers deep into Sam's soft hair, and held tighter. “They didn't need to die. But that doesn't…” His deep voice failed him.

But Sam knew. Sam always knew. “They didn't need to die, but that doesn't make their lives or their deaths any less honorable. They fought for their family, and that's what matters most in the world.”

He stepped away with a bleary gaze, and took hold of Sam's large paw. They walked that way in silence for a long time.

At last, the omega sniffed at the air, and then sighed. “I thought we could make it in two nights, but we're going to have to bed down. Cole’s wolves are a night behind at least, and they'll move slower as a pack anyway. We have time. I'm sorry. I need to rest.”

Castiel hurried to reassure him. “No, you're right. I need sleep too. We don't have to do it in two nights. So long as we are ahead of Cole, we're accomplishing the task. No reason we can't catch a few hours of rest before resuming. I didn't mean to make you think we couldn't, that we didn't have time.” He cringed. “Honestly, I needed the excuse to shift to my wolf so we couldn't talk anymore. Till I got my head straight. I'm sorry.”

Sam nuzzled his neck fondly. “I know. I knew that at the time. And besides,” he teased, “this is my mission. You're just my guard. So I'm the one who decides if we have time to rest or not. And I say we do.”

His alpha smiled up at him. “I like you, Sam.”

“Hope so. We're bonded.”

“I don't think I've told you enough that, while I love you with all my heart, I truly like you very much too.”

Sam laughed at him. “Good” was all he said, and then set to work finding an appropriate spot to watch the dawn and rest through the day.

Once they had curled up together, using their packs to support their heads against the forest floor, Castiel felt his lover stroking his arm with light fingers. He smiled happily, and closed his eyes. “Alphas brush their fingertips along trees and such, to leave behind their scent, to mark territory. Are you claiming me, my love?”

“Maybe,” Sam responded. “In case some strange omega sniffs at you.”

“Unlikely. You're the only one who ever showed genuine interest.”

He hummed his derision. “In any case, you're claimed. Head to tail.”

Castiel snuggled in deeper. “No arguments from me,” he promised.

After another few moments of silence, Sam spoke again. “May I ask you something, Alpha?”

“Always.”

“Can you tell me about the Lycan shift?”

The older wolf stiffened a little, but sighed, and did not bother opening his eyes. “What do you want to know?” he asked wearily.

“What...what is it? Dean and I never saw anything like that before.”

“No one has. No one alive, except those who have been in battle with me. And most who see it firsthand are dead soon after.” He sighed. “It's a warrior’s technique no one has used in generations. As a young wolf, I studied, as do all Argos wolves, and I came across it in the ancient texts. It intrigued me. The level of discipline necessary for it makes it impractical for most to bother. Discipline, strength, focus and control.”

“If no one can do it, who taught you?”

“I taught myself. Or, rather, I trained myself. Everything in my life became about discipline, strength, focus and control. Those four elements were my meat, breath and bedroll for years. It's why I was elevated to Claw over older wolves. It was when Lucifer tried to kill Michael that I first was able to sustain the shift. I slept at Michael's tent entrance most days, and when Lucifer sent his private guard for Michael, I became so angry that I did it by instinct, and killed four trained warriors alone.”

“So you can hold that shift at any time?”

He nodded into Sam's chest. “I could. Michael used to command it of me whenever a wolf needed to be intimidated. But most of the time, it has been a result of a rage. They told me that I held that shift for over an hour when I found Anna dead, though I don't remember. Michael had to order everyone away from me, and Gabriel revealed to me a few nights ago that if I hadn't finally passed out from the strain...Michael had him prepared to fill me with silver if they couldn't make me shift up or down. They said I was too dangerous, that if I couldn't be controlled, I would have to be put down.”

He could feel Sam twisting to stare at him. “You held yourself in suspension between forms for over an hour?”

“Apparently. As I say, I don't remember.”

“Fenris Lycan, Cas! I don't think I could do that for more than a second or two!”

“You couldn't,” he said simply. “And you shouldn't. It's bad enough that you've seen me do it. I never would have wanted you to see me that way. Not you.”

At last, Sam sat up. “Cas?”

The older wolf growled low in his throat. “Sam, let it go. It's a horrible thing, something only a killer of wolves is capable of. Only a Claw. I frightened you when I used the form against Michael.”

“No! Cas, Alpha, I wasn't-”

Blue eyes flashed with pain and impatience. “Of course you were. Do you think I can't smell that from you? That I can't feel it? Just talking about it frightens you. And it should. Do you know why Lycan turned away from Fenris at the last, Sam?”

“Because...because Cerebus howled for him…”

“Because he belonged to Hell. Because he simply knew where he belonged. If there has ever been a wolf who belonged to Hell, it's me. And you knew that as soon as you saw me in that Lycan shift. I'm a killer of wolves. I know where I belong.”

Sam met his eyes. He knew it was a difficult thing for the omega to do, and Castiel felt a strange pride in his lover for challenging him. “You belong with me,” he snarled. “I claimed you, remember? You belong with me.”

Castiel smiled at him wearily. “Yes, omega mine,” he surrendered. “I serve your brother Cerebus with my life. I serve you with pleasure.”


	5. The Hut of the King's Mother

There was really no such thing as a Crowley loyalist, and no one was more aware of that than the great king himself. There were opportunists, and they were nearly good enough. But when he had a truly important task he needed to see done right, he went to the one wolf he knew for sure had the most to benefit from his successful reign. 

His mother harbored no love for him, nor even any believable pretension of it. But she had made a play to become the proper bloodmate to Lucifer Argos, and when he had put her out on her ear, she had returned to Crowley’s side to smirk as her son betrayed the arrogant mutt who had not been smart enough to know her worth. Crowley knew her worth. She was the most conniving, powerful bitch he had ever known. 

For one thing, in addition to being a headstrong bitch, Rowena was also a quite adept witch. 

Crowley was loathe to admit it, but his infuriating mother was the greatest asset he possessed, beyond his own cunning. 

Wargs were strange creatures. They did not consider themselves to be the same as the Lycan shifters. They had become something entirely different over the generations, and none of the old rules applied to them. Taking proper mates and bonds, living by rituals and codes, none of these things mattered to the Vargr. The strong took, and the smart befriended the strong. The truly genius convinced the strong to serve, and that was Crowley’s method. 

Wargs were strange, and Rowena was a peculiar warg, with interesting talents. 

“Hello, dearie,” she smirked without looking up from her book. “What can Mummy do for her king today?”

There was no reprimand for barging into her hut unannounced. That meant she must be in a fair mood. Sarcastic, but fair. “Wondering how your little project goes, Mother.”

“Oh, give it time. You cannot possibly expect any dramatic change yet.”

He bit back his annoyance. “But how goes it, Mother?” he snarled through an impatient smile. 

“Well,” she assured him. “While I don't pretend to care why you're fascinated with this Lycan mutt, I do approve of your methods. Quite ruthless, dear.”

A stinging pride stabbed his chest. It never failed to confuse his heart when his mother expressed approval. “Thank you,” he muttered. “He's been without sleep for six days. How long till I can do my work?”

“Witchcraft is an art, dearie. And do remember that I'm doing this entirely blind. I've never seen the wolf I'm working on.”

“You said his fur was enough.”

“Aye. But it's more difficult. So be patient.” Rowena gave him a tight, prim smile. “Mother knows best.”

Crowley felt his teeth beginning to drop into place, and he fought for composure. “I paid dearly for that scrap of fur from the tent where Michael Argos lost his last fight. Finding a wolf who would go behind the back of the new high alpha and seek out a bit of gray fur in a tent which should only have black or white, and sniff it out as being from an alpha and not his brother...It didn't come cheap. So you'll use what you've got to work with and give me a straight answer. How long till I can do my work?”

The petite, dangerously beautiful red warg lowered her gaze with an indignant sniff. “I should think you could use the dream root to spy into the mind of Dean Winchester by tomorrow's first light.”

Crowley let his teeth slide into place. “Excellent,” he snarled.


	6. Who Needs Friends with Enemies Like These?

“What's she say?”

“Well, she ain't a proper caretaker, now is she?” Dean snapped. 

Lisa raised an eyebrow. “You won't order a proper caretaker,” she barked back with frustration. “And that didn't answer my question.”

Dean held his hand in his hands. “What was the question?” he whimpered pitifully. 

She sighed, and put her hand through his short hair. “What did Gwen say, my love?”

“She's convinced I've picked up something from our time at Argos.” Dean's head lifted and his eyes narrowed suddenly. “But that's just what Benny told her to say. You can't trust that.”

Lisa glanced at the dark shadow at the tent entrance, and met sad, worried blue eyes. “What's that supposed to mean?”

Dean's voice lowered into a growl. “Been stalking me. The bastard wants to make a play for High Alpha. Take me out. He saw what we did with Argos. He's planning his own regime change. He knows Sam and Castiel are out of the way for now. It's his best time to make a move.”

She stared at him, feeling the flinch from Benny all the way across the tent. “Dean, Benny is the most loyal wolf you've got! You've said that a thousand times! How could you think-”

Dean's eyes flashed angrily. “Have they gotten to you too? Naomi Argos flipped on Michael. I have to worry about silver in my back from the mother of my pups too?”

“Don't you dare. Dean, this is paranoia brought on by sleep deprivation. You must see that!”

“Ah! And what do you think that's from? Gwen’s a damn good hunter, but her real talent is with those herbs. She's been poisoning me with something. Don't you see it? Tell me you see it, that I'm not the only one. Bobby would see it. He's been at Harvelle too long. Order him back. Benny!” he shouted. 

The wolf stepped forward with red rimming his lowered eyes. “Yes, alpha.”

“Benny, order Bobby back from Harvelle.”

The brute nodded. “And who should escort him?”

Dean let his teeth drop suddenly. “No you don't. No, no. You'll have someone attack Bobby. You bastard. Should we just have this out right now? Shift and fight like a wolf!”

“Dean, stop!”

Benny shook his head. “Alpha, I've never wanted to fight you-”

“Shift!” he barked. 

Benny took a deep breath, then lowered his eyes, and raised his palms to show they were empty of silver, in deference. Then he shifted down, leaving a robe abandoned behind him. 

Lisa felt her heart breaking. “No! Dean, no! Stop this! Benny is your brother, you've said-”

“I know what I've said. And Lucifer, Raphael and Michael were brothers. If they had simply fought like wolves, wars could have been prevented, a lot of innocent wolves and humans saved.” Without another word, he shifted down to face his perceived rival with a snarl. 

Lisa was breathing too shallowly. She didn't know what to do. If Dean were facing a true enemy, or if her pups were threatened, she would lend her teeth and claws to the fight without hesitation. But this was Benny! When she had whelped her litter, Benny had stayed outside her tent night and day for a week so he could run for anything she needed, even though she had Bobby by her side, and Dean hovering over her, making her crazy. Benny had always been a loyal wolf, and a comforting, constant presence in the shadows. For Lycan’s sake, it was Benny!

Dean's gray wolf growled and approached the big, dark one before him. 

Immediately, Benny dropped to his belly. 

She blinked at him. She had never known Benny to back down from a fight before. She would have guessed he didn't even have it in him to submit once fangs were out. 

Dean seemed surprised too. He lifted his lips in a vicious snarl, and continued to approach. 

Benny rolled without hesitation, exposing his belly and his throat. 

Lisa’s heart shattered in her chest, and a mourning howl rose in her throat. She swallowed it down, but it hurt to do it. “Dean,” she rasped. “Please. Stop this. He's your wolf! And he's your best friend. Please. Don't do this to him. He's got nothing to prove.”

There was another moment spent staring at his subordinate, then Dean relented. He shifted onto two legs. All his fury had dissolved into exhaustion. He lowered himself to sit on his heels, and embraced his old friend, who nuzzled him in relief. 

It was Lisa who saved the poor beast. Had the two alphas been alone, the silver knife would have hit its mark, and Benny would have died trying to prove his loyalty. 

She screamed and shifted in an instant, faster than she had ever had to do before, and leapt upon her bloodmate before the knife could find its target. She could feel Benny's shock behind her, then his realization as the knife slammed to the ground to skitter across the tent out of Dean's hand. 

Dean was shrieking incoherently from below her, and it was only due to the extreme fatigue that he wasn't able to hurl her off him. Tears flowed down his cheeks, as he barked that this proved that she was in league with Benny and Gwen, that he was a fool ever to trust them. Then, at last, the worst accusation came, and Lisa's heart had heard enough. 

“Is it Sam too? Tell me!” he sobbed below her. “Have the decency to tell me that at least! Is it Sam too?”

“Benny?” Lisa said after forcing herself to shift. 

“Yes,” he murmured. 

“Knock him out,” she ordered in the strongest voice she could manage. “He won't take anything Gwen will give him. And he has to sleep.”

“Lisa-”

“Benny? I've never given you an order before. But I'm bloodmate to the high alpha, and he's incapacitated. You'll do as I say.”

Dean stared up at her with disbelief and betrayal on his face. “I loved you!” he whimpered. 

“And I love you. So does Benny. Which is why we’re doing this. Benny?”

She wasn't used to giving orders. She had to look away as this one was carried out. 

“I'm so sorry, brother.” 

Lisa would never forget the sound it made when Benny's fist connected with her lover's temple. 

***

Rowena looked up suddenly. She could feel the spell begin to babble in surprise. “Go get the king,” she murmured to her handsome omega. “Tell him Mother has news.” As the young wolf hurried from the tent, she watched in fascination as her active spellwork changed in nature. 

It seemed that somehow, Dean Winchester had managed to fall asleep after all.


	7. Warg

“Quit fidgeting!”

Dean's head snapped up at the bark. He blinked hard, and looked around him in disorientation. He was in his wolf, in a familiar tent. His nose confused him. He smelled Lisa and Benny, and his own things, but this wasn't his space. And there was Bobby, but he didn't seem to have a smell at all. Dean rubbed his nose with his paw. 

“Be still, you insolent little beast.”

Sam huffed amusement beside him, and he turned to glare. 

Bobby continued their lesson, but Dean’s mind was wandering, and soon he realized he was sneaking away without Bobby even noticing. A giddy feeling thrilled through him. How many times had he daydreamed about creeping out of his lessons on a beautiful night and chasing rabbits instead? He had finally done it! Let Sam sit and study all night long if he wanted. Dean had other, better things to do. 

He had spotted his first rabbit, and was tearing around the field after it, when he slowly became aware that someone was flanking him, matching his speed as Sam would have. He smiled with pleasure. Someone else understood that it was too nice a night to be inside a tent reading books. 

He turned on the strange wolf, and squared off to see which of his father's wolves was strong enough to match his pace, and dumb enough to be out chasing rabbits with him when Bobby was going to shred them later. 

Immediately, his teeth bared. This was no shifter he had ever met before, and he knew all of John's wolves. 

The wolf was smaller, darker, and somehow more sinister. And when he stared at Dean, it was with terrible red eyes. 

“Worg,” Dean yelped, and that was when he finally realized he was in a dream. Dean could always talk while in his wolf in dreams. He had told Sam that once, and the omega had looked at him as though he were losing his mind. But here he was, speaking while in his wolf. It was a bit of a relief to know this was not real. 

“Yes,” the thing responded. “Or Warg. The name is Vargr. It's become many things over the generations.”

He stood with fur bristling in a defensive stance. He was measuring this thing's capability. If nothing else, he had weight on his side. “What are you doing so close to human towns, Worg? You know the laws!”

“Oh, I do. I simply ignore them. Laws are for humans and Lycans. I'm interested only in what is good for me and my pack.”

“Where is your pack?” Dean growled. His ears twitched and eyes flicked about ceaselessly, alert for any movement in the shadows. 

“At home. I'm not one to travel amidst an entourage. Slows you down, and you have to constantly be on guard for silver in your back. You know. Exhausting.”

Through a fuzzy mind, Dean scrambled through what little information he had on the Vargr pack. “You're...Crowley.”

“King of the Vargr. That's me.”

“What are you doing here? I'm not letting you near the human towns.”

Crowley shifted. The movement was elegant and yet sleazy at the same time, and Dean didn't know what to make of that. The oddest part was that the warg was fully dressed in a finely tailored suit.

Of course, this was a dream. 

“Most shifter packs in this region have long since given up their self-inflicted moral obligation to watch over the humans. The Argos have made the cities into dens of iniquity and addiction. It's what's bankrolled their wars on one another. The Fitzgerald and Myers packs used to consider themselves guardians, but they're gone now. I once sat at a meeting of pack alphas in which only one would stubbornly maintain the position that protection of the humans came first, before him, before everything.”

Dean glowered evenly. “John Winchester. And the Winchester pack still fights for the humans if need be. We protect our own wolves first now. And the cities are beyond our reach at this point. But so long as I'm pack alpha, our commitment to protect the smaller human towns will remain.”

Crowley smiled. “And you're just as good a dog as your father was for that,” he sneered. 

He lowered in his stance, growling angrily, but reminded himself he needed to get his questions answered before he tore out this thing's throat. “Why are you here?”

“To meet the mighty Dean Winchester, of course. Where's your brother? The one they say is as big as a moose.”

Dean wasn't quite sure what a moose was, but he didn't want his brother being compared to one. “Watch your mouth.”

Crowley heaved a sigh. “Dean, I think we've gotten off on the wrong foot.”

“Yeah, and if you'll drop down to the other two, we can settle it like wolves.”

“I'm a lover, not a fighter, pup. And I'm here to make you a deal.”

Dean cocked his head in suspicion. 

“Look,” the dark warg sighed, “you're a strong leader of a strong pack. You're a bit more honorable than I generally prefer, and not at all bright, but fortunately, I don't need your brains. I have that in abundance.”

“And you suck at making friends. What's your point?”

“I have a bit of an Argos problem, and I believe you're becoming tired of them as well.”

This caught Dean's attention. This was a strangely detailed dream. “Maybe. They haven't given us trouble. But some packs we do some trade with have complained about fighting spilling over into their territory. The Pastor pack was wiped off the map this moon.” His heart ached with remembering. 

Suddenly, they were both dressed and on two legs, standing before Dean's territory map in his tent. He blinked a few times to reorient himself. Crowley was pointing at a pin and the red strings like spokes coming from it. “This. Your communication center?”

He felt himself nodding slowly. “Yeah. Edge of the territories. That's...Henriksen. They're a small pack, mostly autonomous, except their alpha is tasked with managing vital communication among all pack alphas…” Why was he talking about this with a warg? They had just been discussing an alliance of some sort. Why wasn't Dean off chasing rabbits? Bobby was sure to miss him soon!

The king smiled. “Argos said it couldn't be. Stupid mutts. Can't see what's right in front of them. And all around them if this map is anything to go by. Do you really control every pack along that border? And what about that small survivalist bunch, by the borderlands? What's their family name?”

Dean got the uneasy feeling this warg knew exactly what the name was. “Trenton. Cole Trenton is alpha.”

He was treated to another cocky smile. “Ah yes. Trenton. Didn't they maul the entire leadership of the Lenore? Made way for the Argos to conquer the borderlands, I think.”

He sighed. “Ain't as though Trenton had much choice in all that. The Lenore, in alliance with Raphael Argos, had just burned Pastor to the ground, down to the last wolf. It was a massacre. Most peaceful pack you ever saw, just a bunch of wolves trying to hunt and fish, and trading in baskets and robes mostly, just a handful of fighters, and the Lenore dropped down on them like demons.” He scowled. “Like wargs.”

Crowley hummed his understanding. “I can't say I'm entirely sorry about the demise of the Lenore. Inbred relics. Just like the Argos: obsolete.”

Something itched at Dean's mind. “Rumor has it Raphael also made an alliance with the Vargr.”

“I've heard the same rumor.”

Dean nodded. He stared hard at his map. “If that were so, I don't know who I'd call the stupid ones. Raphael betrayed the Lenore, and stole their borderlands. The Vargr’s high alpha is said to have betrayed Lucifer Argos when his splinter pack tried to set up a camp within warg territory.”

Crowley smiled at the memory. “Do they? Do they say that? I haven't heard that one.”

He took a breath. “Yeah. So what would Raphael Argos or Crowley Vargr be doing allying together, when they each know the other can't be trusted?”

“Friends close. Enemies closer. Blah blah blah.”

“What do you want from me, Crowley?”

The warg continued to smile, but there was something strangely relatable in his eyes. “Did you know, Dean, that pack names have changed so many times over the years that, beyond the Lenore and Argos, no one can truly say what their original names were? Wargs descend from the Garou. Chalons freed us from the oppressive feudalistic ways of old. But who knows where the Garou came from?”

“And who cares?” Dean added impatiently. 

Crowley ignored this. “Names change. Did you know that the original name for the beast of Hell wasn't Cerebus at all but-”

“Cerberus,” Dean snapped. “From the original Lupine, evolved over the years as wolves developed Canis and Madadh-allaidh, which I believe is your native language? You're an eastern warg, judging by the accent, probably from one of the red warg packs that lost their territory to the Covens.” He enjoyed the surprise on the thing’s face. “I was mentored by the most well-read omega scholar in the region. And sometimes I even paid attention.”

“Hm,” the warg mused. “Not just a pretty face, then. Good. The point, my friend is that names may change, but what matters is the power. Cerebus is still the same god no matter what we may call him. And it's true that I'm a warg and you're a Lycan. We do things differently. But what we both want is prosperity for our packs. All of our packs.” A dark brow raised minutely. 

Dean lost his smirk, and narrowed his eyes. 

Crowley smiled at him. “Ah. There we are. On the same piece of ancient parchment, I think.”

He wouldn't have called himself a mental giant, but Dean wasn't a stupid alpha. Yet, in all his years, he had never once suspected that Winchester might not be the only pack which secretly ranged over several territories. “How many wargs do you have, Crowley?”

“Let's just say that the Argos are the most powerful single pack. But they're not a single pack any longer. And they can each call themselves Argos all they like, but it doesn't make them whole. You and I both know what a whole clan is. And it isn't about holing yourself up like the Lenore, or two alphas warring over the same slab of land and gambling rings. Whole doesn't always mean right on top of one another, does it, Dean? Sometimes family benefits from a little distance. So long as they all come when their king howls.”

Dean nodded slowly. “So your wargs are spread over many packs. Like my wolves. And they would fight for their cousins if called, to protect their family.”

“Oh, good god, no.”

His eyes narrowed further. 

“No, they'll come to fight for their cousins because I tell them to. I'm their king. It's not a matter of familial love, you stupid Lycan mutt.”

Dean felt the fur on his neck bristle in annoyance. 

“It's a matter of a complex hierarchy with me at the pointy end. It's a beautiful bureaucratic system where everyone gets what they want so long as I get what I demand. And some days, it's best to solve a problem with a touch of aconitum in a glass, but other days, a war is good for morale.”

He flinched. “Aconitum! That's against the…” He gave a sigh. “That's against the inter-pack treaties you don't recognize.”

“Laws are for humans and lap dogs, Dean. And I know you know that. Assassinating another pack’s high alpha is also against those treaties. But sometimes, it's quite convenient to simply take care of a problem yourself, isn't it?”

“What the hell kind of dream is this?” he murmured. “Look, I put down Michael Argos to stop a war that would have cost countless lives, and crippled whole packs. One life to save hundreds or even more. And I lost a wolf that night too. Not to mention Raphael's attackers, who I suspect were trying to steal my new fighter Castiel the minute he left Michael's side. Lost a wolf that night, and a few who had to be retired. I'm tired of losing wolves to the Argos war machine. I just want my packs to go about their business on their own land in peace. We don't bother nobody else. We earned our land, and we work it. We don't go out stealing more. But folks need to stay the hell off ours. The Lenore attacked Jim Pastor, took it clean off the map. And so when they came for Trenton, there wasn't a hell of alot of mercy for them. Cole got the upper hand, so he shredded them. My wolves don't start these battles, but we'll fight for what's ours, and we've never forgotten what it means to be family. My wolves swear fealty to me, not because I've got power over them, but because we're cousins, and because they know I'll work and fight for every last one of them, to my death. Because we're family.”

Crowley punctuated Dean's speech with slow clapping of his hands. “Lovely. Really. I may shed a tear. Meanwhile, in the real world, I've got an Argos infestation, and I'm looking to make a real alliance with the only Lycan I have even an ounce of respect for, the one who rid the world of Michael Argos, and who guards what's his but minds his own business otherwise.”

“You want an alliance. With Winchester.”

“I want an alliance with you. You and me. Our packs are part of that arrangement. But unlike Lucifer or Raphael, I don't truly think you have any interest in turning on me and trying to claim warg territory or resources. And there may come a day when the wargs will descend like demons on Winchester, but I don't foresee it, mostly because it wouldn't gain us anything we need or want. I'm also watching to see if Gabriel Argos shares the mad Lycan gene which would cause him to pick up where Michael left off. I don't think he's interested in that, but it was a litter full of crazy when he was whelped, and I don't have much patience for madness.”

Dean snorted softly. He stared down at the map. The world was becoming foggy and odd around him. “I've said it before. Wargs I get. Argos are crazy.”

Crowley was watching him carefully. “Be that as it may...You're beginning to awaken from this dream. When you do, you'll feel certain that the Vargr King is an ally and not a foe.”

“I don't-”

“Goodbye for now, Dean. We will meet very soon.”

The tent faded from view, except that when he opened his eyes, he was still inside it. “Lise?” he muttered hoarsely. 

She bounded to his side, in her breathtaking wolf. 

He held her indulgently for a moment, then pulled back. “Lise, call Benny. I need to talk with him.”

Lisa tilted her head, but nuzzled him quickly and then hurried from the tent. 

Dean didn't know how he had fallen asleep, how long he had slept, nor what he had dreamed while he did. He could remember chasing rabbits, and a storm coming, and that was all.


	8. Best Wolf for the Job

Trenton was a ghost camp. Sam shivered as his gaze fell upon signs of battle all around them. 

“Are you all right?” Castiel asked quietly. 

Sam sighed. But he pushed on ahead, leading the way to the high alpha’s cabin. Being inside reminded him of the human habitats he had lived in for a short time in the city, just like the furniture in the ornate Argos tents had. But there were no such human comforts here. Inside the Trenton cabins, there were thin bedrolls, and stoneware plates, some still with dried venison and fruit on them, as though the diners had been interrupted and never had a chance to return. It was eerie. 

At last, the omega shifted, and helped himself to a robe from their satchel. “Cas,” he murmured, “please call Cole.” He looked up from the dishes. “You know how to do that?”

Castiel nodded. “I lived in a city a long time, Sam. I've never used this particular type of phone before, but I'm familiar with human communication.” But a moment later, he seemed to be struggling. “Can you hear me? I said this is...Yes, Sam's alpha.” He was rolling his eyes. 

Sam snorted at him. “Mighty Claw, reduced only to my bond.”

“And proud to be so,” Castiel barked back in frustration. “Trenton, this won't-Please listen. This isn't funny, Trenton. The phone says that I'm nearly out of minutes. Yes, clear path. I'll give you a full report if you'll simply listen.”

The omega wandered the cabin, and then exited it altogether. He walked around the unfamiliar camp. John's other pups had been sent to Trenton to train when they were old enough to do so, but John had never wanted Dean and Sam out of sight of him or Bobby for too long. They were trained by John himself. That was true for most of the wolves in their pack, but many of them had also spent time in this camp, at least for a few quarter moons, if not longer. Some stayed as long as six moons, to learn the survivalist strategies, the fighting and hunting techniques, as well as things like drying and preparing food, conducting trade deals, and to live as city shifters. Those like Adam and Jake who completed the entire training, could expect to have a chance at high alpha of a splinter pack one day, or at least as a trusted adviser or bodyguard to one.

It would have been a devastating blow to Winchester as a whole to lose Trenton. Other than John Winchester, there was no better trainer than Cole and his team. Sam had spoken to Adam briefly back at Dean's camp, and acknowledged the clever strategy Trenton wolves had used to not only survive the Lenore attack, but to decimate the enemy. 

Adam had smiled. “Something Cole teaches in the fight classes. He says that unless they're reading the moon, wolves never look up. So if they couldn't smell us because of the scent mask, and they couldn't hear us because of all the packs in mourning for Pastor, we just had to be off the ground so they couldn't see us. Damn Lenore monsters never had a chance.”

And perhaps that was so, but the element of surprise only accounted for so much. Sam could see the claw marks and broken pieces of camp life all over. The battle had been fierce. None of Cole’s wolves had let on how terrible the fight had been. Sam wondered if even Dean knew. 

He bent to pick a tuft of fur from under a shattered pot on the ground. He sniffed it, then flinched as he got a better look. The alpha who had lost this fur lost a chunk of his muscle with it. There was a broken fang and dried blood still in it. 

Sam found the communications cabin after a bit more wandering. Since Castiel was reporting to Cole on the mobile phone, Sam picked up the emergency phone connected to the wire. 

“Sammy?”

The voice soothed his nerves somewhat. He hadn't realized how tightly he was holding his muscles until he relaxed. “Dean.”

The older wolf sighed with obvious relief. “It is you.”

He tried to laugh. “Who else would be calling from Trenton?”

But Dean ignored that. “And you're okay? Cas okay?”

“We’re fine, Dean.”

“Thank Fenris.”

“Dean, it was mostly uneventful. I know we’re later than you thought, but-”

“No, it's fine. It's-That's fine. You're fine, and that's all I care about. You get hold of Cole?”

“Cas is reporting the scouting right now. No problems. Smelled a few strange mutts near Pastor. Scavenging, probably.”

“Strange how?” Dean demanded. 

Sam frowned. “Strange like I don't know them. What's wrong with you? Is something going on back home?”

“No,” he responded curtly. “How's the camp smell?”

He heaved a sigh. “Like a lot of wolves died here. Dean, I don't know if Cole told you how bad it got. It was bad.”

There was a pause, then Dean spoke again quietly. “Not so bad as Pastor.”

“No,” he agreed sadly. “Not so bad as that.”

“Those wolves you smelled there. How close did you get?”

“Closer than you'd have wanted me to. Why?”

“Cas-”

“Castiel isn't running this scout. I am. Don't bark at me about doing the job you sent me to do. You sent me so it got done right. And I'm not letting my alpha or my high alpha tell me how to do that job. I'm the best damn scout you've got. I'll risk making my alpha a little nervous by going in for a close sniff if it means I come away with information you might need.”

Dean sighed. Sam could practically hear him biting back his snarl. “You are the most headstrong, defiant-”

“Best scout you have,” he repeated stubbornly. “It's why you sent me. Or did you just want me and my nose out of camp while you were fighting whatever’s been wrong with you lately?”

“That was just bonus, you smug bastard.” 

Sam snorted. 

Dean growled low in his throat. “So? What did you learn about scavengers in Pastor territory that was worth the risk of you getting mauled by some mutts?”

“They're wargs.”

His brother went silent. 

“Dean? They're just wargs scavenging. And Cole had already pulled out our dead, and anything valuable. Nothing left but some ruined tents and debris. I say let them choke on any rotting venison they find.”

“How do you know they were wargs?”

“Saw their eyes.”

“Fenris Lycan, Sammy, you got close enough to-”

“Dean, don't scold me! There were wargs in your territory. That's information you should have. And what if they weren't wargs? What if they were Raphael’s scouts? Or Michael loyalists? The Vargr don't make alliances, but Raphael-”

Dean was snarling now. “The Vargr aren't that different from Lycans, Sammy.”

His eyebrows shot up. Castiel was slipping into the cabin, and he tipped his head to the side at Sam's expression. “Not that different from...Dean, you're acting really strange lately. What's going on with you?”

“Nothing. I just mean I'd rather team up with a group of Vargr than leave our territory open to Argos mutts. The wargs you saw. How many? And were they organized, or just tramping?”

Sam thought back to the night before. “A set of three. Dad always said they run in threes like we do.”

“Except you and me,” he murmured softly, and for the first time in several nights, he sounded like Dean. 

A fond smile came over him, and he felt his alpha relax across the room. “Yeah. Except you and me. And it's hard to tell what organization looks like among the Vargr packs. But it didn't look like they were looking for anything in particular. Just putting their dirty snouts all over our camp.”

“Okay. Okay, Sam? You and Cas stay two nights and days in Trenton. You rest and feed. Cole will be there by then. And then I have another task for you. You up to it?”

Sam locked eyes with his lover. “Always.”

Dean huffed a quiet laugh. “Best wolf I got, Sammy. And I got a lot of damn good wolves. Call me when you're rested. I'm sending you and your city mutt into The Darkness.” 

The younger wolf could feel blood draining from his face. He watched Castiel's eyes narrow. But he knew better than to make Dean repeat himself. Dean would never joke about such a thing. He swallowed hard, and nodded. “Yes, Alpha,” he breathed hoarsely. “Whatever you need.”


	9. Waiting Out the Storm

Castiel would never admit it aloud, because he knew how much of a city mutt it made him seem, but recuperating for two days in the cabins of Trenton was a relief. He loved the open air and the light tents at Winchester, but having four walls and a roof wasn't unwelcome, especially as the wind and rain storm blew in. But it made Sam even more nervous.

“It's not natural,” he complained unceasingly. The poor omega was shivering in misery, and was shifting from one form to another as though he were pacing. Every few minutes, he tried to sleep in his wolf, then shifted to two legs with frustration.

“Do you want me to go hunt down another blanket?” Castiel murmured.

His omega gave him a wordless whine.

“That's a yes,” he assumed, and he lifted himself from their bedroll to pad barefoot to the cabin entrance.

“No! Cas, no. Don't go out there. That's ridiculous.”

“There are no more blankets in this space,” he pointed out. “I'll find some in other cabins, and do my best to keep them dry for you.”

“Cas, get back here. Come on. You're not the one who hates these places. It doesn't make any sense for you to be the one to leave. I'll go.”

Castiel's eyes narrowed. “I can't do that,” he decided after a beat of silence.

At last, Sam laughed a little. “Of course not. Because I could get blown away by the wind, or terrorized by some wet, unhappy rabbits.”

That didn't make a bit of sense. “Sam, rabbits are in their burrows right now, and even if they weren't, they're unlikely to bother you.” As an afterthought, he added, “Although I wouldn't mind one trying to bother me, since they've long been my favorite.”

“Just get over here and cuddle me. What kind of omega would I be if I demanded my alpha go out into a storm to bring me back a blanket, and hopefully a rabbit?”

His bond lowered back down beside him, and wrapped his arms around him. “Probably a warmer one. A better fed one. Though, as I said, I'm not going to find a rabbit during the storm. Unlike my omega, I don't claim to be able to track in wind and rain.”

Sam grumbled into his alpha’s chest. “I never said that was my first choice. Just that I can if I have to.”

“I am tiring of dried venison.”

“We’ll hunt on our way out.”

Castiel nodded, heartened by the promise. “Are you all right?”

“Don't ask stupid questions.”

His alpha chuckled at him. “Sorry.”

Sam shrugged moodily.

The Claw cleared his throat.

They were lying on a bare bedroll, with two deerhide blankets and one cloth sheet over them, and Sam was curled in as close as he could get to Castiel's heat and comfort. It was sometimes still strange to share a bed with someone else, but it made Castiel truly happy.

Which was why he had to say something. “Sam, I disagree very much with your brother's decision to send us into warg territory. And not just that but into The Darkness itself.”

“I know you do.”

“You do too.”

“I will always do what my high alpha needs me to do.”

“That isn't what I said.”

Sam was quiet for a time, and they listened to the rain pounding against the roof. “It doesn't matter what I agree with. What matters is that I do the job given to me by my alpha. Your alpha too.”

Castiel frowned at that. “Sam, you needn't remind me that I belong to Dean. Since minute one, I've dedicated myself to his-”

“I know. Shh. I'm sorry. I guess I'm not reminding you so much as me.”

There was another long silence between them.

Then Sam sighed. “No,” he said at last. “No, I don't agree with it either. But I'm hoping he just knows something we don't know, something that would explain his orders.”

“Something other than fever madness.”

He felt his omega cringe, and he wished he had said it differently. Sam rolled away from him onto his back. “Yes, Cas. Something other than my brother losing his mind.”

Castiel closed his eyes, and felt the worry wafting from his lover. “I'm sorry.”

Sam was looking back at him just as he opened his eyes again. “For what? Pointing out the truth? That Dean's been suddenly erratic and paranoid for nights on end? That maybe it isn't even all that sudden? Maybe the whole reason for breaking into the Argos camp and doing what we did, maybe it all was part of a fever we didn't know he had? Or even before that, when he revealed the secret of our family ties to Gabriel? Or running back to the city to save me from a wolf who may have been dangerous, but who he didn't even know? Or what about letting me go to the city in the first place, but doing everything he could think to do to keep me protected from the city shifters and humans short of having Benny stand guard outside my door?”

“I wasn't thinking of that.”

Sam shook his head, and Castiel flinched as he watched a tear slip down into his hairline from his long lashes. “I can't help thinking of it. You know, Jo once told me she read somewhere, in a book by a human who had tried to study the psychology and nature of shifters, that alphas who never took an omega bond were susceptible to paranoia and aggression at a higher level.”

Blue eyes blinked. “That's not…”

“No? Samuel Campbell never took an omega, so far as I ever heard. He was so much of a bastard that my father had to take control of the pack. My dad ran with Bobby in the way Dean did with me, but he never took any omega bond. Mom and a few other females, but never an omega. And if you think he wasn't an obsessed, paranoid wolf, you've never met one. Used to keep the dens on lockdown, always waiting for another raid like the one that killed his mate. Look at Michael and Raphael. You said true Argos wolves are discouraged from trusting omegas.”

The older wolf sat up and stared at his hands. “And me,” he breathed.

“Cas, this isn't about you-”

“No,” he insisted. “But it could be. I'm bonded now. But you didn't know me before. Paranoia and aggression were my job. My identity. And especially after I lost my mate…”

Sam reached between them and took his alpha’s hand in his own. “Cas, this isn’t about you. It’s about me being worried about my brother. Don’t. Okay? Dean’s never really cared about taking a bond. And he’s so in love with his mate that it’s embarrassing.”

At last, Castiel smiled at him. “I was the same with Anna. And with you. Don’t judge him too harshly for that. Some of us just weren’t meant to be in love with more than one at a time. We fall too completely. With Anna, I never noticed there were any other females or any omegas in the territory. With you, I never would have noticed Anna. Some alphas can keep a bond and a mate at the same time. Benny might be able to. Perhaps he has more heart than I do. It wouldn’t surprise me. But what little I do have belongs only with you, my love. I wouldn’t doubt that Dean is the same. His mate is a lovely wolf, and she seems his complementary partner, and he hers. Just as we are. And Anna and I never agreed about virtually anything, except that she was the best thing that ever happened to me. I’ve wondered a few times what she would have thought about you. Not you; she’d have loved you. I mean my bond with you.”

“And? What would she think?”

“What would Anna think of me now?” Castiel lay back against the bedroll. “I think she would be glad I’m happy again. I think she would hate not being the only one who had me curled at her bedroll. Not that we shared a tent most of the time. But she knew she only had to smile at me, and that was me receiving my orders to attend her. Just as you know how to do.”

He received a snort, and a squeezing of his hand. “You’re easy,” Sam teased. “The smile’s barely necessary.”

“I always want you. It's hardly my fault you're as beautiful as you are, that you feel so good. I can't be blamed for taking advantage of my inexplicable luck. For whatever reason that I smell right to you, I thank Fenris for it. And I thank Cerebus for allowing it.”

Sam sighed and curled into him again. “Well, Cerebus is sending us deep into warg territory tomorrow night. We need to rest before the sun gets any higher. And I think I've thought of a way you can help keep me warm in this unnatural shelter.”

Castiel couldn't bite back his smile. “I offered to get you a blanket.”

“Offer me something else.”

Pleasure beamed from Castiel's heart. “I have nothing to offer but me, my love, but I'll cover you if you'll let me.”

“It is your duty to keep me warm,” Sam pointed out. “A helpless omega like me might freeze without his alpha.”

“Helpless!” Castiel began to laugh, and all thoughts of wargs and madness flew from his mind. He rolled onto Sam, and pushed his muzzle into the delicious throat beneath him, breathing into Sam's skin. “My warrior omega, who has fought by my side and literally saved my throat, he is no such thing. It is my honor to do right by him.”

The young wolf smirked up at him. “Then do right by me.”

Castiel's eyes closed briefly as he breathed in the scent of this incredible wolf. He hummed happily. “Yes, omega mine.”


	10. Orders

The day had been quiet until Cole had arrived. He had thanked Castiel and Sam, and immediately got to work setting the camp to rights. It would not be an easy task, but Cole’s camp was the first line of defense for all of Winchester, and it had to be operating as soon as possible. Cole’s wolves were rested, having gotten a break and caretaking back in Dean's camp, and had even gotten two days extra so Sam could scout ahead. Now they were bursting to rebuild their lives.

Sam and Castiel had moved on as soon as Cole had debriefed with Castiel.

“Trenton knew nothing of our mission, so I said nothing,” Castiel had murmured to Sam. “I let him think we were heading to Harvelle’s without actually saying so.”

His companion had tilted his head at him in innocence. “Why?”

“In case Dean doesn't want his other pack alphas knowing his business. It's often prudent to not tell everything you know to every alpha you encounter.”

“But Dean trusts Cole.”

“I suspect he does. That doesn't mean he needs him to know about this particular mission. If he had wanted him to know, he would have told him, or instructed us to tell him. He didn't do that.”

Sam nodded slowly. “I guess you know more about secret missions and pack leadership intrigue than I do.”

“Undoubtedly.”

He gave him a grim smile. “Okay. Let's hunt a bit before the rabbits go underground again or we’ll be on dried venison as our last meals before the wargs shred us.”

Castiel sighed. “Have you spoken to Dean?”

“No. But Trenton gave me a charged phone, so he can reach us. He knows we're heading out. He won't forget to give us our orders.”

Hunting with only Castiel was a little awkward. There was a reason for the sets of three. Two wolves was an odd dynamic in general. Other than the brothers, Sam had never seen it work well. Pairs usually broke apart to hunt separately, and Sam was beginning to think that would work better for him and his dear alpha, until at last, he caught scent of a rabbit buck and the chase was on. Castiel didn't act automatically as Dean would have, but he was smart, and he took direction. When Dean might have known how Sam would move without a thought, Castiel's keen eyes never left him, and he picked up on Sam's signals well enough. Unlike another alpha might, Castiel did not allow ego to push him to take the lead. He knew Sam was the more experienced hunter between them, and he himself was simply so grateful to be hunting again after so many years that he was happy to defer to Sam.

A breakfast of rabbit at dusk kept them quiet and content as they followed their mental maps along the route they had memorized before bed at dawn. They trotted along in their wolves for three hours before stopping to rest and snack on the remains of their hunt, and bread from Cole’s packs. If it weren't for the looming dread of things to come, it might have been a pleasant way to spend a night.

Sam reached for the phone as it shivered beside him. “Dean?”

“Where are you?”

He took a breath. “We’re resting before leaving the border.”

“Which border?”

He frowned at Castiel. “Which...Dean, we took the most direct route. We crossed from Trenton into Cuevas. Did you let Cesar or Jesse know we would be going through there?”

“Cesar knows I needed some scouting done. He's not going to give you any trouble. And Jesse’s a paranoid grouch, but he’ll do as Cesar says.”

“Cesar’s alpha. Of course Jesse will do as he says.”

Dean snorted. “Jesse may be an omega, but that don't mean he ain't in charge of that territory every bit as much as Cesar. So don't ever make that mistake. So you're through Cuevas already? Traveled smart.”

“Only two wolves. And Cas is sturdier than most.”

His alpha made an odd face at that.

Sam gave him a wink. “He can keep up.”

“Good. So you gotta be asking why I want you two in warg territory at all.”

“Crossed my mind,” he admitted sourly. “I always thought I was good to you when we were pups.”

There came a weary laugh over the line, and it crackled a little, which only made Sam's anxiety worsen, as it illustrated how far from home he really was. “You're the wolves I trust the most,” Dean explained. “Benny...I need Benny here watching me.”

“Watching for what?” He bit back a whimper of concern.

“Watching for...for me not acting right. I'll-I'll tell you more when I can. I just-Right now I need to know everything I can learn about the wargs in The Darkness.”

Castiel beckoned for the phone, and Sam handed it over. Sam could hear well enough, if he leaned in. “What are we meant to be after, Dean?” he asked. “You wouldn't risk Sam if it weren't important.”

“I wouldn't risk you if it weren't important either,” Dean corrected.

Sam watched Castiel's face soften. “Forgive me, Alpha, but you sound more like yourself tonight.”

Dean hummed irritably. “Yeah. I'm finally sleeping. If you can call it that. You two need to learn all you can about the wargs in general. It's come to my attention that we have gone too many generations without contact, and we don't understand them. We think we know what they are, but everything we know is based on what amounts to gossip and centuries-old lore. I got a hunch we need to do better, and soon.”

“You want vulnerabilities, for an invasion? Numbers, formations, guards?”

“Yes, all that. But not for an invasion. Winchester don't invade territory, Cas. We just want to hold onto what we got. And Trenton is right there by the Borderlands, which Raphael Argos is sitting in, and Cuevas is jutted up against Vargr forests, and I think it's time I learned a bit about some shifty, red-eyed neighbors.”

“Anything else in particular you want us to sniff for?”

“Yeah. I don't know what a worgie caretaker might be like, but I'm curious about what they use as medicine.”

Sam and Castiel looked at one another in surprise. “Medicine?” they both cried out.

“Yeah. Herbs, roots. Something. They've got something, and I want to know what. I'll have Gwen and Bobby look it over when you get home.”

The big omega took the phone again. “If we get home! Dean, you're sending us into the heart of warg lands! They'll most likely kill us on sight!”

Castiel's jaw clenched. “I won't allow them to hurt you,” he swore recklessly.

“No. Sam, just...just trust me on this, okay? You're going to be fine.”

“If you're wrong-”

“I'm not. Sam, I'm not. I feel this. I would never order this if I didn't believe you'll be all right.”

And that was true. Sam knew it was true. But it didn't make facing the forests ahead any easier. “Okay, well, once I've survived, I'm coming home to kick your tail.”

He could hear the relief in Dean's voice. “You survive this, and I'll give you one free throw, but that first one better kill me.”

“Dean, why are we doing this? Really? What's going on?”

“You're going to think I'm losing my mind.”

“I already think that.”

He gave a soft snort that was nearly lost by the poor reception. “I guess you do. Because that's how I've been acting. But, Sammy, I got a hunch that there's something in those woods we don't know about, something they're using against us. Against me. And if they can use it from such a distance, it's a weapon like nothing I ever seen before. And the worst part is that I don't think they're even using it as a weapon yet. I think they're just letting us know they've got it in their arsenal.”

Sam's blood was running cold. He shivered in the wake of his brother's voice. “What are you talking about?”

“Benny can feel it. And so can I now. Something is tethered to me from that territory. I can't explain it. But it's real.”

Castiel had been leaning in to hear what he could, but now he frowned and grabbed for the phone. “Dean, the ancient stories of the wargs, you've read them?”

Sam watched with confusion, and tried to think back on his studies.

“I only know what I can remember Samuel Campbell muttering about. What do you know?”

Castiel swallowed hard. “Dean, the old stories, the myths surrounding the wargs, and why they're different...It's all about dark magic.”

Sam huffed. “That's ridiculous.”

But Dean wasn't sure. “I'd have said so too, but Gwen says the reason she got interested in studying herbs and such is that she remembers the old stories too, stuff the Campbell side used to scare their pups with in the day when they wouldn't sleep.”

“Freaking Campbells,” Sam hissed.

“She says Samuel used to go on about secrets in the warg forests, magic they used to control other wolves. And she says it's not all that different from the scent mask we use. Just a bunch of herbs and powders mixed just right. Except they add in some words of power, and it becomes a weapon.”

Castiel was frowning at Sam. “If they really can do such things, why haven't they before now? They're scavengers and raiders. Why not become tyrants?”

“Maybe they're not as inherently evil as we all think. Or maybe they got something else they value more. I don't know. And I need to know.”

The subordinate took a long breath. “Contingency for capture?”

Dean cleared his throat over the line. “Give them your true names, and I'll pay your price.”

Sam watched as his alpha struggled to process this. “That's...that's not a contingency plan.”

Their alpha sighed in a way that sounded exhausted to Sam even over the great distance. “And what would an Argos contingency plan look like?” he asked indulgently.

A flush filled the older wolf’s cheeks. “I'm not being belligerent, Dean, I'm just looking for thorough orders. I don't know you well enough to guess what you would have me do if they attempt to torture us for information.”

“Yeah, you do.”

“Michael would have me do whatever it took to kill Sam and myself before giving up anything vital.”

Dean's voice was quiet now. “And you don't belong to Michael. What would I have you do?”

Castiel licked his lips, and looked into Sam's eyes. “You would have me do whatever it took to save Sam and myself, even if we had to give up something vital.”

“It ain't plan A, but it'll do. You keep my brother safe, Cas. There's nothing about this mission that's worth losing Sam. But he's the best I got, and I need him on this. So you keep my brother safe. And I think when they know your true names, they'll negotiate. I got a feeling that the average worg might be a stupid thug, but the one they got running the place is more than smart enough to know he don't want a war against Dean Winchester. We're good neighbors, and there comes a time when even a warg king’s gotta need that.”

“Yes, Alpha.”

“Sammy?” Dean called.

“I'm listening.”

“All that goes for you too. Keep my brother safe. We’ll teach that old wolf some new tricks before long. He's learning. So don't let anything happen to him, you hear me?”

Sam was smiling at Castiel. “Yes, Alpha,” he responded.

“Go.”


	11. The Future

Raphael might have gotten away with it too, if it weren't for those meddling pups. 

Everything had been falling into place so beautifully. Lucifer was dead at the silver knife of Michael's Claw, the abomination that was so primitive and beastly that he could hold the legendary Lycan shift, making him the nightmarish assassin Michael needed. Then a few whispered words by Raphael's loyalists in Michael's camp had put the mad alpha into a bloodlust. Making his littermate believe that bitch Anna was turning the Claw had taken almost no effort on Raphael's part. Michael’s rationality was mostly a thing of the past by then. That didn't negate the brilliance of the whole thing. 

Michael had shredded their cousin himself, as Raphael had heard it, and he couldn't have been more delighted. Ordering Anna's execution would have been enough, but getting his own white paws dirty, that was just fantastic. He had heard from his loyalists that Castiel had gone rabid, had flown into a berserker rage and had held that horrific form for so long that Michael had considered putting him down with rounds of silver. As much as it filled him with delicious, utter gratification to think of Michael being forced to fill his trophy fighter with silver, it would defeat the purpose of Raphael's scheming, which was to claim the Claw for himself. Once Castiel learned what Michael had done to his mate, the beast would rend his high alpha, and likely his private guard, to the bone. 

Then Michael had taken advantage of Castiel's grief, and convinced him that Raphael had slipped into the camp and mauled Anna himself. The poor, stupid wolf had exiled himself to the city for years, because he clearly knew better, since he had not sought Raphael for retribution, but could not bring himself to acknowledge that Michael had lied to him. 

But something had changed. His spies said that it was for an omega that Castiel had left Michael's side, and turned on him. But that was ridiculous. A true Argos alpha would never be swayed by an attachment to a simple omega. It was part of their training to always be wary of omegas in general, and if there was anything Castiel could be called, it was disciplined. Aside from Raphael himself, Castiel might have been the most perfect example of cold brutality among their father's sons. No omega had corrupted the Claw of Argos. The only thing that made any sense was that Castiel was finally choosing a side worthy of his sharp bite. 

Crowley Vargr could ramble incessantly about Dean Winchester, as though that lap dog were even on the game board. But Raphael knew the truth. And it wasn't Gabriel who had dispatched Michael. If he were able and courageous enough, he would have done so years ago. No, it was entirely the work of the Claw. It had taken a few long winters, but at last the brute had realized that his future was with the true high alpha of Argos, Raphael. Gabriel would drop to his belly when he saw Castiel at Raphael's side, and perhaps he would even let this last littermate live, as a show of unity within the family. It was right. And it was what Raphael wanted. 

So the surprise on his face was genuine when the mongrel messenger of Crowley's came to tell him that Castiel Argos Winchester and Sam Winchester had been captured by Crowley's private guard within warg territory, in the Darkness, no less. 

“You're wrong,” he snapped in shock.

The stupid red-eyed beast sneered at him. “I often lie, but I'm never wrong. The King invites you to see for yourself. Bring as many guards as make you feel brave enough to enter the Darkness, my Lord,” the thing mocked. 

Raphael considered breaking its neck, but refrained with great benevolence. “I need no guard,” he informed the messenger. “But I will bring those that would see this Darkness for themselves, to dispel the silly myths regarding it. It is a forest and nothing more, with red eyes in the dark instead of blue or green or brown. It is hardly worth the stories told about it.”

The warg was grinning. “Certainly,” he hissed. “The King invites you cordially.”

“What has he done with the two shifters he has captured? Executed the omega, of course, as he isn't of any use. But the alpha is a brother of mine. What has he done to Castiel?”

Red eyes watched him without blinking. “They both live, my Lord. Whether they like it or not.”

Raphael narrowed his eyes. “You are dismissed. Tell your alpha I will come when it is convenient, but that I command him not to harm the alpha. I care nothing for the omega. That's a brother to a high alpha of a small pack out near the human towns. He means nothing. But the alpha is a true Argos wolf, and he is not to be harmed, unless I deem it so.”

“My King does not take commands,” the warg growled. 

“He will soon enough,” Raphael muttered. “Now go. The smell of warg does not easily come out of fabric.”

It snarled at him, but turned to disappear from the camp without another word. 

Raphael sighed with irritation. What were those two shifters doing in warg territory? They were getting in his way. This alliance with the arrogant Vargr King was tiresome, and not a little dangerous. He was intending to take the warg territory as soon as this quarter cycle, if he could catch them off guard. 

With the Borderlands and the warg forests, and eventually the Argos family land all under Raphael's rule, it would ring in the most impressive empire ever held by a wolf. The humans would serve him directly, and his most loyal wolves would be dispatched to every town and city to administer the realm’s governing bodies. Raphael would usher in a new era of prosperity the likes of which had never been seen, and every high alpha would bend to his every whim, or be slaughtered. The warg territory was crucial for his expansion. Michael had been satisfied simply taxing the humans, feeding their vice and profiting from it. His brother was not so small-minded. The humans had lived for centuries under the protection of shifters, and they owed everything to them. When Raphael destroyed the wargs, the humans would be grateful to accept his rule. The Borderlands would be his base of operations. Perhaps he would even allow Gabriel to manage the family land, so long as he professed his fealty to Raphael...

He shook himself back to the present. “But first, I must figure out what Castiel is up to, before he messes up everything I have planned out so carefully.”


	12. Krait

When they had reached the Darkness, it had made his fur stand on end. Looming before them was the most unnaturally dark and ominous forest he had ever been near. It was the place where daymares were born, he was certain. A thickness permeated the territory, making it difficult to breathe easily. 

Sam had let a tiny whimper escape, sending a chill through Castiel like a quake. “You've been here before?” the omega whispered. 

“No. Not so far as this. When I came for my older brother and his rebels, it wasn't so far as this. I'm shifting down, Sam. This place isn't safe. Tighten my harness. I need to be able to fight freely. It would be stupid not to be ready.”

His lover seemed to agree, and when he had adjusted Castiel's leather straps, he shifted down too, and Castiel took the straps of Sam's much lighter pack into his bite to tighten them too. His omega was a fierce fighter. He wanted him unrestricted by tangling leather strips as well. Having their packs tight against them meant no clumsiness in battle with...whatever evil he could feel in every breath he took in this awful place. Fenris forbid Sam would have to defend himself, if Castiel failed, but he wasn't too stupid or proud to presume his omega didn't need to be ready just in case. 

Castiel's mind began recording every nuance of the territory, from a military point of view. He felt the terrain, silently lamented the strange shadows which obstructed his view, took note of every defensible advantage this forest gave to anyone hiding among it. Beside him, Sam's nose was at work, learning everything possible about who had been there, and how they found their way. Several times, Castiel felt his omega stop, and he turned to receive instruction. Sam flicked his eyes to reveal a path which they had nearly overlooked, but which Sam's keenness had discovered. Castiel could smell alpha on the trees, and his blood simmered as he resisted the instinct to remove his omega from this place. 

But when the attack came from the shadows, he let instinct completely take over. The red eyes had narrowed, and then had widened in surprise when Castiel had flung himself on the warg before Sam even knew it was leaping toward him with teeth bared. He shredded the beast in seconds, venting his coiled rage and terror, which had built throughout their time in this horrible forest. The warg did not even have time to yelp before his throat was torn out. 

Blood dripped from Castiel's teeth as he growled at the dark trees around them, awaiting the next attack. 

Behind him, Sam was panting with fear, but he huffed at his alpha to continue their trek. They left the dead warg where it lay, and moved on, slower and closer to the ground than before, eyes, ears and noses working frantically. 

The air was thick and filled with dreadful scents they could not identify. It was different from the tunnel they had forced themselves to use in the Argos camp. This was unnatural in a completely different way. Fear was a taste in this forest, a smell that lingered on their tongues like biting metal. Nothing natural felt like this. And nothing natural could live among it. 

The next threat took the form of a snake, and Sam was the one who found it first. Castiel's sharp ears were picking up something, but he couldn't determine what it was. He stopped to search all around them for the noise. 

It was Sam who remembered Cole's warnings. He looked up in time to see the enormous snake strike. He threw his weight against Castiel, who fell out of the serpent’s reach. Unfortunately, that put Sam directly in front of its bite. 

A strangled cry from his omega's throat cut straight to Castiel's heart. He saw the snake, twice as long and large as the biggest he had ever encountered, rearing back for another strike. Primal fear flooded his senses, but his need to protect was yet stronger. He attacked the yellow-banded monster the only way he could think to do it, by shifting in a leap and pulling his silver dagger from its sheath to plunge into its head. The thing was heavy, and when it dropped from the branch, it released a stream of venom as one last spiteful gesture before twitching into death. 

“Fenris Lycan,” he swore, then whirled on Sam. His heart lurched in his chest. “Fenris,” he breathed again, but this time it was more like a prayer than a curse. 

The large gray wolf was convulsing on the ground, making a choking sound in his throat that ripped Castiel's heart into shreds. 

“Sam!” He dropped to the ground beside his lover, and smelled fear and pain coming off him in waves. “Fenris, Sam, please! I don't know-I don't know what to do!” His mind raced through terror to try to access any knowledge at all about snakebites, and how to treat them, but there was nothing. He had never been a caretaker. He knew only how to destroy, not how to heal. 

And that deficiency was going to cost him his great love. 

“You've killed my krait,” a voice with a Northeastern accent grumbled. 

Castiel felt his teeth dropping back into place, ready for another fight. “I’ve killed a monster. And a warg. And I’ll do the same to you if you come near this wolf.”

A warg so dark that he seemed to absorb the darkness around him stepped casually from a dense patch of trees. “That will make it very difficult to save your friend,” he pointed out. 

He stared, then looked back down at Sam, whose convulsions had quieted to weak quakes. The hazel green eyes were dark with fear and pain, but he was unable to move at all. Breathing was becoming a struggle. Castiel desperately wanted to breathe for him, to suffer the paralysis himself to free Sam from this horror. 

“It's a hard way to die,” the warg pressed quietly. 

He prayed to Fenris that he wasn't making a terrible mistake. “If you can help him, help him. I'll owe you anything. Just help him.”

The warg smiled. “As you say,” he murmured while lowering himself to examine Sam. “You will owe me.”

Castiel swallowed hard, and tried to focus on what he was doing to help Sam, rather than what promises he had just made, and where they would take him.


	13. Not Silver but Tarnish

Sometimes war was good for morale. Sometimes a bit of subtlety was called for. And sometimes a King needed a little of each. 

“Why not simply fill him with silver and be done with it?”

Crowley sighed. It was his curse to constantly be surrounded by morons. “And what about the rest of the pack? Hm? Unlike his recently dead littermate, Raphael inspires some loyalty from his warriors. And unlike his other dead littermate, those that follow him truly are warriors. If I simply shot him with silver, would that be the end of it?”

The former Argos Claw lowered his gaze. “No,” he admitted. “It wouldn't be.”

“You're certainly happy enough for me to do it though, aren't you? Not brothers of the heart then.”

When the blue eyes raised again, they were full of ice. “He sent a team of assassins after my omega.”

“After you,” Crowley corrected. 

“They nearly killed my omega. They spilled the blood of my new family.”

“So no love lost between you and big brother Raphie.”

Castiel narrowed those icy eyes. “What does this matter to you?”

The King smirked. “I saved your omega.”

“From a snake that was apparently a pet of yours.”

“So? Does that make the moose any less alive, any less because of me?”

Castiel snarled at him. “He's now chained inside a hut.”

Crowley waved this away. “Aren't we all chained to something? Look, Raphael is on his way, with a few of his elite guard. He's the villain here. Stay focused.”

The shifter glowered. “Get to the point.”

“I'm not going to kill Sam Winchester. But Raphael has suggested that I do so.”

He could see the fighter’s claws extending, restlessly scraping along the leather on his halter. Anger simmered in his gaze. 

“What he was most clear about was wanting you alive. He must think you're ready to defect to his team.”

“That's a fallacy on his part. What's it got to do with you?”

“Dean Winchester sent you to spy on my territory. Didn't he?”

The shifter stared forward, and did not speak.

“Of course he did. And I'm going to let his brother sniff around to his heart’s content. But meanwhile, I'm going to let Raphael have what he wants too. You.”

“You're going to let Sam collect information to take back to Dean, and you're going to give me to Raphael to execute.”

Crowley watched him curiously. It seemed the beast was resigned to this fate if it meant keeping his omega safe. Strange, honorable, stupid thing. 

“I understand. Give me your word that Sam will be released back into territory friendly to Winchester, and I will accept my role.”

“Argos soldiers are always looking for silver to roll over in.”

Confusion and irritation flared in Castiel's eyes. “You said-”

“I said Raphael thinks he can turn you.”

“And when I reveal that as impossible, he will execute me,”

“Then don't.”

The Claw frowned. 

Crowley had become King by clawing his way through the ranks of the nastiest beasts in the Darkness. He sometimes forgot that deception and ruthlessness were not second nature to some. “Let him think you've been turned. Let him think you're on his side.”

“And then?”

“And then when Dean Winchester and I crash down around his ears, you pick off his commanders and guard one by one from the inside, leaving the pack without leadership, without strategy. No one to rally behind, no command structure. That way, when we've filled him with silver at last, the pack will be too devastated to rise again. They will retreat into nothing or run to Gabriel Argos for amnesty.”

“These are my cousins.”

“Oh, now you're going to pretend to be loyal?” he snapped. “A Claw on the inside, and an alliance with Winchester. It's a beautiful plan.”

“It won't work.”

“It will work, you stupid mutt! I just told you how!”

Castiel was watching him now. The shifter was considering his plan, but he was also sizing up the King to see if he could escape. Short-sightedness was an Argos trait if Crowley had ever known one. “No,” the brute said at last. “No, you're wrong. It can be done with less bloodshed. What's the Borderlands to you?”

Crowley shrugged in irritation. “Nothing at all! Who cares about Lenore territory? Let Argos rot in it for all I care!”

The shifter nodded slowly. “Then war isn't inevitable.”

It took all his discipline not to fly into a rage. “Of course it is! Raphael is set on it! He's determined to take my lands, and various Winchester splinters, and retake the Argos capitol along with the cities it holds! He can help himself to all that, but my lands are...They're mine!”

But Castiel's eyes were already shining. “No. No, you're looking at this from the point of view of a worg.”

“And what are you then?”

The blue gaze flashed in exasperation. “I'm an Argos, you ass. And I will tell you how this will play out, and you'll do as I tell you or you'll lose your lands and your life.” The snarl was full of loathing now. “And if you hurt Sam Winchester, or my high alpha, I will tear it down. Do you understand? The alliance, everything. I will tear it all down.”

“And this ends with Argos dogs out of my lands. Permanently.”

The dark wolf nodded. “Yes. Prepare your worgs to fight. But have them hold for my signal. We try it my way first.”

“And what, pray tell, is your way?”

Castiel took a breath and seemed to look at something very far away. “The greatest weapon against an Argos alpha isn't silver. It's disillusionment. Fill Raphael with silver, and you're right. His pack defends his honor and his mission. Fill him with humility, on the other hand…”

“His dogs will back down.”

“Yes.”

“And how do we do that?”

Castiel sighed. “You give him a fight he should win easily. And you let his pack watch him lose in humiliation.”

Crowley had known Dean Winchester and his mutts would be useful somehow. He smiled. “Then make your plans. Because he's on his way.”


	14. The Alpha and The Omega

Castiel’s nuzzle was a relief. Sam curled into it. His whole body ached, but he was alive, and that was what mattered. So when he heard Castiel speak again, he gave him a sigh. “Sam? Can you do it?”

“You know my brother will kill you.”

“I’m aware he will try,” his alpha said dryly.

Sam shook his head and lay back. “No. No, he’ll definitely kill you.”

“But can you do it?”

He stretched his long limbs, and heaved another sigh. “I don’t like the implication that omegas are inherently weak and incapable.”

“Sam.”

“I don’t know, Cas. But you know I’ll do what I can. This witch warg, she thinks she can help?”

Castiel narrowed his eyes in disgust. “I don’t like working with them. But...yes. I think she will be able to...amplify your natural abilities.”

Sam looked up at his alpha and stared at him for a long minute. Then he nodded. “I’m a hunter. But I can fight when I need to. And I will always fight when you or Dean needs me to.” He smirked, and sat up on the bedroll. “I wish you had chosen a better quarter cycle for this. I’m not exactly at my best. I haven’t been since I started running with you. I meet you for coffee a few times, and the entire next moon cycle, I spend bleeding and fighting for my life.”

The alpha winced. “I’m so sorry, Sam.”

He laughed a little. “It’s all right. But if I live through this, you need to promise me a holiday.”

“We will hunt rabbits and lie under the moon till your belly and heart are full, my love. I promise.”

“And go swimming.”

The look on his lover’s face was worth the entire negotiation. “Swimming!”

Sam shrugged. “Sure. I haven’t been in a lake since I was a pup. You promise to go swimming with me in a full moon if I live through this.”

He was well-aware that he could make Castiel promise him anything at any moment, especially this one. It was a good thing for the warrior that Sam was a wolf with very simple needs. “Fine. Hunting rabbits, making love under the stars. Swimming in a full moon. These are no hardship, omega mine.” Castiel leaned down to kiss him with a wealth of passion, stealing Sam’s breath. “I would not put you at risk if I thought you couldn’t do this. You know that. If anything goes wrong, I will be right there to tear in like a storm. Believe that.”

“I do. It wouldn’t ever occur to me that you wouldn’t take care of me.”

Pride and concern battled for dominance on Castiel’s face, and Sam could smell the conflict in his emotions. “Sam, I need to tell Dean. Crowley has offered to connect us, as a show of his...cooperation, I suppose. Do you want to talk to him?”

“No. Just tell him I’ll be fine. That I know what I’m getting myself into, I know he’d never let me do it if he were here, but it’s a solid plan, and I’m doing it. It might save the lives of dozens of my cousins across the territories, not to mention yours.”

And now pride won out, and Castiel smelled entirely of adoration. “Far more than dozens, my love. Doing this will likely save everything we know. Raphael will never stop at the Borderlands, or even Argos territory. In time, he would come for everyone we love. If we can stop him now, here, we must.”

“Tell Dean that. He’ll hate it, but he’ll understand it, and there isn’t anything he could do to stop it anyway.”

“Of course he could,” the alpha argued. “He could order me to stand down, to bring you home. I answer to him. He is my commander. But he is a good commander, and I think he will know the opportunity we have here, and will accept it, however reluctantly.”

Sam nodded. “Send in the witch, then. If I’m going to do this, I need as much time to prepare as I can get, and Crowley will only be able to stall Raphael for so long. Go tell Dean our intentions.”

“Sam, I’m...I would never let anything...But I’m afraid for you nonetheless.”

“I know. Have faith, Cas. I’m stronger than you think.”

“Nothing is worth losing you, Sam.”

He smiled. “Go, my alpha. And come stand at my side as soon as you’re finished.”

Longing lingered in those blue eyes even after Castiel shifted down to run from the hut in search of the satellite phone Crowley had offered them.

Sam sighed. “Hope this works, you crazy wolf,” he muttered to the empty space.

“Certainly it will,” a purr responded through the open door. A tiny, stunning female slipped in with silent grace and a red smirk. “Well, aren’t you a big boy?”

He frowned at her. “You’re the witch?”

“Aye, and you’re the omega hunter. Pleased to meet you. Even more pleased to see you. Lovely thing.”

“Enough. What are you doing to me exactly?”

She pouted a little at the dismissal, but shrugged. “Just a little transfer. Barely a decent show of my power at all.”

“And you do all this with herbs and such?”

“Mostly. Wargs are different from you shifters. We’ve more sensitivity to the soil. Shifters are in tune with the air around them, with smells and sounds, and the moon’s moods. But we wargs are a wee bit more connected with what grows. And what grows in the Darkness, dearie, is more powerful than anything you can find out there in your grasslands. It’s why we’ll never leave this place. Some of the packs will scavenge and raid, but those who know how to use the roots and leaves and spores here will always return to where the power grows.”

Sam chewed on his lip during her speech. He didn’t understand most of it. But he could feel nothing but confidence from this female. “A transfer, you said.”

“Just a little transfer. Nothing too fancy, love.”

“And Raphael won’t know?”

“No one will know but you and me, and my dear son the King. And your handsome alpha. No one else can be trusted.”

The omega nodded. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

The pretty warg smiled wickedly. “Aye, let’s.”

***

Dean had been livid, as expected. But when he had finished threatening Castiel in many creative ways, he had let the soldier explain it fully, and had grumbled consent under the condition that Sam was safe. Castiel had given his word that he would die before he let anything happen to Sam.

Castiel had not seen Raphael for years. He stared as the wolf walked ahead of his elite guard without fear, gazing calmly at everyone around him as if he already owned them all, as well as the ground he touched. The older alpha let his eyes settle on Castiel at last, and an eyebrow lifted in cool interest.

“Castiel,” he intoned in his deep voice. “Michael’s mightiest weapon, captured by the Vargr?”

He took a breath and held his head high, in spite of the chains at his wrists. “I am Winchester, brother. And I became a prisoner to Crowley Vargr when my omega was injured.”

Dozens of sets of red eyes surrounded them all, watching the exchange with intense curiosity. Raphael’s guards looked around them warily, but Raphael focused only on his brother. “You are Argos, Castiel. Always. And I know what Michael did to earn your rebellion. I am sorry about Anna.”

An involuntary flinch crossed his face, but he centered himself. Sam was counting on him. Dean was counting on him. He could not afford to lose himself. “Michael is dead, by Gabriel’s silver. I supported him in his coup. But I am not part of his pack.”

Crowley cleared his throat from behind him. “Argos, this is all fascinating, but I’d like to get back to running my realm. You’ve turned a prisoner transfer into a spectacle. You wanted the beast, and I’ve provided him.”

“Castiel, I claim you for the true Argos nation.”

His snarl was audible. “Nation. Meaning you also claim Gabriel’s wolves and lands.”

“I am the rightful Argos high alpha. I claim all Argos wolves and territories. Including Gabriel. And including you.”

“Not that one.”

All eyes turned to stare at the outburst from far outside the inner circle. Raphael searched for the source of the interruption. “Who dares interfere?”

A large omega shifter stepped through the growing crowd of wargs. “I do. I’m Sam Winchester. I’m the true son of John Winchester by his bloodmate Mary. I’m the grandson of Samuel Campbell. I’m brother to high alpha Dean Winchester. And I claim Castiel Argos Winchester as my wolf.”

Castiel adored him. He smiled smugly at Raphael to find him seething. “Seems you’ve been overruled, brother,” he jeered.

Raphael’s teeth slid into place, and his claws began to extend. “No one speaks to me in such a way! And certainly no omega! You have no authority!”

Sam continued to stalk toward the great alpha, with fearless loathing in his gaze. “I have the authority of my birthright, and of my bond. But if you choose not to recognize those, then recognize this. I challenge you. Right now, right here, in front of your guard and your ally, in front of your brother, and before Fenris Himself. Fight me, or release your claim on my wolf, you arrogant mutt.”

Shocked fury pulsed from Raphael, and even Castiel cringed at the power of it. “You insolent, ignorant feral! Dean Winchester isn’t here to defend his claim! If he were, I would strike him down in an instant.”

The omega snarled directly into Raphael’s eyes, taking yet another step so that he was just inches from the warrior’s face. “You didn’t listen. I said I challenge you. Me. That wolf belongs to me. If you would take him, you’ll have to go through me to do it. And if you think you can strike me down, I’d like to see you try.”

There was a moment of deep confusion on Raphael’s face. He glanced at Crowley, then back at his own guards, who stared openly. At last, he looked at Castiel, who began to laugh. “What’s the matter, Raph? You’re afraid of one omega? I won’t lift my paws in allegiance to an alpha who can’t rise to a challenge to his authority. And I doubt my brave cousins will follow a wolf who would let a feral omega give him commands.”

Raphael was not stupid. He turned to glower at Castiel with hatred, suddenly entirely aware of the situation he had fallen into. He had brought with him his best lieutenants, to show off his dominance over the Warg King. Now these very same lieutenants were waiting to see how he would react to this challenge. Shredding the omega proved very little, except that he was acknowledging the young wolf as a threat. Ignoring the challenge was a sign of weakness. Losing a fight to the omega was unthinkable. There was no way to walk out of this scene with the dignity which he had brought with him. Already, Castiel could see his cousins glancing at one another anxiously. There was a crack in Raphael’s unflagging confidence, and in his lieutenants’ confidence in him.

At last, something in Raphael seemed to snap, and he lunged at Sam, shifting as he did so, into his strong, large wolf.

Castiel shivered with fear, straining against his instinct to dive between the two wolves, to protect his beloved omega. As it was, he could not help his fangs dropping, his growl sounding.

Then the witch was at work, and Castiel felt his own breath punch out of him. As he stared in horror, gasping for air, the transfer took place.

Sam had shifted down to clash with the mighty alpha. He was fierce and powerful, but he should have been no match for Raphael’s strength and training. But now he was shifting again, and Castiel wanted desperately to look away, but he couldn’t. He didn’t know if it was his own horror or the magic, but he was entirely unable to avoid watching the nightmarish figure of his sweet lover.

Sam Winchester, true son to John and Mary, grandson to Samuel Campbell, brother to Dean, and bond of Castiel, was only the second wolf in many generations to manage a Lycan shift.

And with that power, borrowed from Castiel by a red warg female, Sam tore into Raphael Argos, and destroyed him.


	15. From Dogs of War to Angels of Peace

Castiel had burst through the chains. 

It was Sam's first coherent thought when the bloodlust died down. 

Castiel had burst through the chains that held him captive. 

Somewhere behind him, a female sighed. “He's so alpha,” she purred to herself. 

“He's an omega, Mother,” a dry voice responded. 

“Aye. But I like those.”

He could practically hear the King rolling his eyes. It took Sam a moment to realize they were discussing him, and when he did, he gave a small shudder. 

Castiel was heaving madly at his side, completely given over to his rage, growling mercilessly at any wolf or warg who approached his omega. 

Sam took a deep, weary breath. He was beginning to feel his injuries, and there were many. But he was standing over a dead wolf, and that meant the plan had worked. He had killed a high alpha in a challenge. Not even he knew what happened now. 

“Cas,” he breathed. Then he cleared his throat and strengthened his voice. “Castiel, stand down,” he ordered. He wanted nothing more than to collapse into his alpha’s arms, to feel safe and cared for. But he needed to finish this. 

And the order was what Castiel needed. He gulped in air, and forced himself into a calmer state. His eyes were still wild, but they began to flick around him as if he were gaining control again. “Sam?” he growled. 

“I'm fine, Cas,” he said quietly, for only him to hear. Then he raised himself to his full height and glowered at the Argos wolves who stared at him. “Take your dog,” he sneered. “I'll take my wolf.”

The words seemed spring-loaded, and suddenly everyone around them was shouting and posturing, and Sam wondered if a battle weren't going to break out after all. 

But then one of Raphael's lieutenants took a breath and shouted for quiet. 

Crowley commanded silence from his excited wargs with a glare. 

The wolf turned to Castiel finally. “Cousin.”

The alpha watched him with suspicion. “Cousin,” he repeated.

“I am Nithael.”

A weary smile softened Castiel's face as Sam watched. “I remember you. You were a pup when you left Michael's service.” Fondness seeped into his voice. “Not much more than that now.”

Nithael scowled. “I'm Raphael's first commander, Castiel. I may look young still, but I've come far since you and Esper trained my garrison.”

Castiel nodded and put his smile aside. “And now your high alpha lies dead at the feet of my omega, who was nearly killed by a snakebite just yesterday. Your choice in leadership seems to be something we neglected to teach.”

The younger wolf looked down at the body of his high alpha. “Raphael was a victim of pride, my Claw. And I am forced to decide what will become of our pack. Raphael took no mate, and has no heir, and even if he had, I doubt we would be inclined to follow his bloodline after the events here today. But neither will we return with our tails tucked to beg Gabriel's mercy.”

Sam cleared his throat again. He wanted to drop his gaze, but he made himself look directly into the alpha’s eyes. “Then who will you follow? Will you take on the pack yourself?”

Nithael paused, as the other Argos wolves stared. Then he shook his head. “I am meant to fight for generals, not to be one.”

Castiel nodded. “They will still look to you to choose. There will be splinters and feuds if you do not do so, and immediately. Who will take the pack to the Borderlands you've earned and make it a home, and not a headquarters for war? Because make no mistake, cousin, the war ends today. The era of the warring brothers has ended. Gabriel is all that remains, and he has no stomach for war. And these wargs and Winchesters won't allow it. So you'll cut your losses and take an honorable retreat or you will be cut down yourselves for nothing. There is no honor in continuing the fight of a dishonored dead alpha whose war was about his own power, and not about the good of the pack.”

The shifters all looked at their commander, who closed his eyes briefly, then nodded back at Castiel. “The era of the great Argos brothers is ending,” he agreed. “But Gabriel is not the only one who remains.”

Castiel frowned. “I killed Lucifer and Michael myself, and my omega has killed Raphael.”

“And you are a true Argos, Castiel, one of the last. Would you lead us? Become high alpha of a strong pack of cousins, who may have fought against you, but who never once doubted your integrity. Control the Borderlands, and rule as you see fit.”

Sam's heart began to pound.

Perhaps the young warrior could hear it. He gestured toward the omega. “With your omega warrior by your side in a place of honor, of course.”

A pink tongue darted out to wet Castiel's lips, and Sam wanted to kiss him, to shake him, to tell him that this was madness, that it was not at all what they had planned. But he stood still and awaited Castiel's judgement. 

Blue eyes searched seven faces, faces of wolves Sam realized Castiel must have trained himself, must have fought alongside and taught. The wargs seemed to fade into the Darkness around them, swallowed into it like they were living shadows, and only their eyes remained visible. Or perhaps Sam simply could not focus on anything but his own fear and his bond. 

Then, finally, the eyes settled on Sam, and Castiel smiled again. “No,” he murmured. “No, Nithael, I'm Winchester. I've bled for Dean Winchester, and he has done so for me. I will always love my family, Nithael, but my place is no longer with the Argos. Instead, I will help you to find a new leader who will abide the good traditions of Argos, and replace the poor ones with sense. Do you know any among you who might be that leader?”

Nithael glanced at a comrade, who shrugged. “Maybe. Ezekiel is not a true Argos, but he is a strong fighter, and he is smarter than any other wolf I've ever known.”

The smile broadened on Castiel's face, and Sam could see relief there. “Ezekiel. He is one of the good ones. For what it is worth to your wolves, I would support Ezekiel, assuming he intends only to rule the pack as it is and not to go looking for fights.”

Nithael lowered his head in deference. “Your support means more than you think, my Claw.” Then he turned to his wolves. “Carry the high alpha. He will be burned at the Border at dawn, and the Argos name will burn with him. Ezekiel Angeles will be high alpha before the ashes cool, and every wolf in the pack will know himself to be his, I will be Nithael Argos Angeles, and I will put my own paw on a treaty with our Argos cousins, led by Gabriel. Let this be a new era.” He slid his eyes to glare at the King of the Vargr. “One in which good wolves don't ally themselves with worg cowards.”

Crowley smirked. “Good riddance to you too, you stinking wolverine.”

Nithael snarled at him, but said nothing more. He reached for Castiel, to grab hold of his forearm. The gesture was returned with a smile. “Thank you, Castiel. I came here tonight hoping with all my heart that Raphael would convince you to join us. Having great Castiel on our side would have legitimized a campaign that was quickly losing its justification. I would have given you my fealty, cousin.”

“Give it to Ezekiel, and then help him remember that good pack alphas listen to their wolves. They rule with their hearts and not their Claws. Be well, Nithael. My own heart will be safely returning to Winchester as soon as my omega is ready for the journey.”

Now the younger wolf turned to shake his head at the silent omega standing to the side. When he spoke, it was with awe and respect. “He's incredible, Castiel. I've never seen a warrior like him.”

Sam looked up in surprise. “An omega, you mean.”

Nithael smiled. “A warrior. You are omega, and a beautiful one. But I dare not risk your wrath. Care well for him, Castiel. He is a wolf like no other.”

Castiel's quiet pride poured over Sam's senses, and finally everything he had been through was worth it. “He is my redemption, my moon and my every breath.”

The younger alpha hummed in appreciation. “Then I ask him to care well for you too, Castiel. Be safe, my wayward cousin. And be happy.”


	16. For One Wolf

Considering the averted war, Dean decided not to kill Castiel. But it was clearly a hard decision.

“He could have been killed!” their alpha shrieked for the fourth time.

“But he wasn't,” Benny muttered from his position behind his leader. “Dean, you know Cas ain't gonna-”

“And another thing! How do you know he's not going to have lingering effects from that witchy crap?”

Castiel sighed. “Dean, he's fine. I'd smell if something weren't right-”

“Oh, you'd smell it! He'd smell it,” he repeated to Benny incredulously. “Well, that's great, dumbass. And what would you do about it if you smelled something not right?”

The former Claw lowered his eyes. “I would do anything it took to ensure his-”

“Like you did everything you could to put him in danger in the Darkness?”

Benny frowned. “That ain't all fair, brother,” he said in a respectful but warning tone.

It still amazed Castiel that Benny would defend him, especially about Sam. He was grateful for the integrity of honorable wolves. “Sam is fine,” he snapped. “If he weren't, I would return to the Darkness and destroy the King of Wargs, and his mother too.”

“And how would that help my brother?”

Benny threw his hands up. “Okay, Alpha. You've made your point. You're getting tangled into hypotheticals now, and that's just confusing the damn issue. Sam's fine. Hell, Sam's a war hero. Sam killed himself a true Argos high alpha! I think you ought to be damn proud.”

Dean glared at him.

But Benny had gained a strange new confidence in the time Sam and Castiel had been away. Castiel wondered if it had to do with his new mate and omega, or if it had something to do with their pack alpha being recovered from his ailment. He hoped to hear the whole story soon. Right now, the brute simply met Dean's gaze evenly.

To Castiel's surprise, Dean's anger dissolved into a tired smile. “Yeah. Okay. You're right. I'm proud of Sam. I'm pissed at you, though,” he confirmed, pointing at Castiel. “But fine. Everything's good now.”

The older wolf nodded his thanks to Benny, and risked a small smile. “I promise, Alpha, next time Sam and I are in such a position again, in which all of the wargs of the Darkness and the strongest Argos fighters alive are staring us down, I will be certain to do things differently. I know! Perhaps you could never order us to scout there ever again. That might prevent us being in a similar situation again!”

Dean smirked. “Point taken. But that's the only point you get to make.”

He snickered to himself, but lowered his eyes. “Yes, Alpha.” Then he looked back at Benny. “We brought you your goldenseal, but we also...Dean told us to seek out warg medicines in an effort to understand them better. The witch was helpful once my omega began feigning interest in her.” This was said with a rueful dryness, even as he felt his teeth wanting to drop.

Benny made a face.

“In any case, we have something for Samandriel, if Gwen and your cousin Bobby will look it over. She said it would ease sleep and promote healing of a spiritual nature. Whatever that means.”

The big brute blinked at him hopefully. “You think she was sincere in that?”

Castiel shrugged. “I couldn't tell, but Sam said he thought so. She said it would give him some relief from his most painful memories, and help him rest.”

Benny smiled. “That's...Thank you, Cas. That little cousin of yours...Well, he could do with some good rest. And thank you for the goldenseal too. Gwen says it'll help his appetite and...and ease a bit of pain too. Good for wolves that got themselves old injuries that never healed up right.”

“Speaking of injuries, Alpha,” Castiel said as he handed over his satchel to Benny, “I would ask permission to go care for my omega. He's recovering well, but he does need some attention.”

Dean glanced at Benny. “Go on. Take that to Gwen. I promise not to kill the beast while you're gone.”

Benny leapt from the tent without another word. Castiel smiled after him. “I'm happy for him.”

“Yeah. He's gone from being a lone wolf to being full up on family. Part of that's because of you, and he won't forget that.”

“I did nothing but assure Samandriel that he was a good wolf.”

“He is a good wolf. And one day he's going to give me another generation of good wolves.”

“Yes, alpha.”

“I know you would have fought for Sam. I just hate being so far away when he was in danger.”

Castiel nodded with a lowered gaze. “You did send us into what's rumored to be the most dangerous territory in the region.”

He could feel Dean's flinch more than he could see it. “I know. And there was no doubt in my mind, not one, that Sam was going to do what I needed of him. That pup is a pack wolf, Cas. He's always going to do what he has to do for the family. He's willing to sacrifice anything to keep his family safe.”

“Like you.”

Dean's jagged breath stung Castiel's heart. “I gotta keep my wolves safe. They depend on me. I'm not…” He dragged his claws through his hair. “What happened to me...It scared the shit out of me, Cas. If it hadn't been for Benny and Lisa, I just don't know...And that warg king has been in my head. I needed to at least have a nose sniffing around his.”

“What do you mean, he's been in your head?” Castiel's gaze narrowed, and his nostrils flared, at the idea that anyone could be affecting his alpha.

“I can't explain it. But he and I are connected somehow. And that can't be a good thing. I don't feel it anymore, but it was there, and-and it turned me into something I don't ever want to be again. He wasn't just preventing me from sleeping. He was whispering. I don't know. Just-just believe me that it was critical that you and Sam go sniffing there. I couldn't trust anyone else.”

“And you have to be willing to sacrifice anything for your family.”

Dean swallowed painfully. “Nothing means more to me than my brother. I would give anything for my brother. But I can't let an enemy corrupt my mind. My wolves need me. I didn't know it would end this way, but you did what I asked, got information I needed, and you managed to end a years-long war while you were passing through.”

“Your wolves do need you, Dean. As I spoke with Nithael about a new alpha for them, he offered the position to me. The other wolves, those with the most influence in Raphael's pack, seemed to agree.”

The younger wolf’s eyes widened. His teeth dropped into place slowly. “They tried to make you high alpha?”

“They did. And I declined. I told them I was proud to be Winchester. That I had bled for Dean Winchester, and he had done so for me. Dean, you fight. You lead. You're the high alpha I am proud to serve. Your brother stared into the eyes of one of the most brutal alphas that ever lived, and told him I belonged to him. His words as he stood over Raphael's body? Take your dog. I'll take my wolf. You should have seen him, Dean. He was beautiful.”

The teeth receded slowly, and Dean gave a soft smile. “That's my pup,” he said.

Castiel shook his head. “There is no amount of power which could take my loyalty from the Winchester brothers. I belong to your brother, and we both belong to you. I hope you know that.”

“You gave up a whole army for one wolf, Cas. You're damn right I know it.” He grabbed Castiel's forearm as a sign of respect and love. “Go take care of my brother. All Hell could break loose at any second. Rest while you can. You never know what tomorrow night will bring.”

“Yes, Alpha. Thank you.”

But before he could exit the tent, he heard his leader call to him. “Cas? Did Sam really hold a Lycan shift?”

A sudden pang of guilt hit him. “Yes,” he said. “The witch transferred my strength to him in case he needed the help. Along with that came the strength and focus of the Lycan shift.”

“The rage, you mean.”

Castiel’s eyes closed. “The wrath,” he agreed. “The Lycan shift requires a great store of pain and anger. I never would have wanted that transferred to Sam.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah. I know. But it saved him, and I appreciate that.”

“Yes, Alpha.”

“Go. He will be waiting for you.”

Castiel heaved a sigh, and turned again to leave to be by Sam's side.


	17. Bloodthirst and Possession

The lingering effects from the transfer weren't exactly what any of them had feared. Sam had said very little on the way back to Cuevas territory, and then when Cesar himself had driven them to Harvelle, he had stopped talking altogether. Castiel had let him be, though he pressed his nose into the omega's neck whenever Sam let him, just to reassure himself that he would be all right. Then they were in one of Ellen's trucks, and Sam had curled into Bobby for the rest of the trip. Castiel had swallowed hard, and moved to the truck bed before he needed to be told. Sam had not even met his eyes, and Bobby had shaken his head at the concerned alpha when he looked like he might speak. It was a lonely hours-long trip in daylight, and everyone was exhausted by the time they arrived. 

Bobby had helped Sam to his tent, and lay on his bedroll with him in their wolves until he had fallen asleep. 

Sam awoke to find his mentor gone and his lover curled up at his feet. He was shocked to also find that he had shifted to two legs in his sleep, just as Castiel sometimes did. 

“Cas,” he hissed. 

The dark wolf lifted his head from his paws and stared with worried blue eyes, and made a soft, questioning sound. 

“No, I'm...I'm okay. I'm sorry I'm not…”

But Castiel shook his head, and padded quietly to Sam's side. He waited. 

Sam smiled at him as well as he could, and then gestured for his alpha to join him. 

Relief washed over the wolf, and he dove into the bedroll beside his lover, shoving his nose deep into Sam's neck.

Sam held him tightly. He knew his silence the day before had confused his alpha, and he wanted to set things right. “Hey. I am sorry. I’m just so tired.”

There was no movement, but he knew Castiel was listening, and scenting for his injuries and state of mind. He scratched into the dark fur, and felt how tense the muscles were beneath. He closed his eyes and let Castiel's warmth comfort him. 

In time, his hands stilled, and he sighed. 

The wolf lifted his eyes again to search Sam's face. There was fear in those clear blue eyes now. 

“You didn't tell me what it does to you.”

The eyes slammed closed in a flinch. 

Sam took in a long breath, and shook his head. “This happens to you every time? You held that form for over an hour when Anna died! How did that not kill you?”

When Castiel shifted to his man, it was a sad, awkward movement, and his eyes remained low. “I'm not sure it didn't kill a part of me,” he whispered hoarsely. “Sam, please believe me that I never would have agreed to the transfer, to any of it, if I'd known you would gain my ability to hold a Lycan shift. My strength and my speed, anything else, it's entirely at your disposal. But I would never have wanted you to experience that.”

Sam nodded. “I was fine at first. Tired, but-but fine.”

“That was the adrenaline. The bloodlust. You weren't fine. You just couldn't feel it yet. I stupidly hoped that you'd be spared because of your different anatomy. I’m sorry.”

He watched Castiel lower himself to the bed again, in a sort of defeat. “What is this?”

“It's Lycan’s Curse,” he breathed. “It's the price you pay for the power the technique allows you.”

“All I can think of…”

Castiel’s eyes sparkled too brightly. “Blood. It's all you want. You didn't go through the rigorous training I put myself through. Your injuries and fatigue aided you in calming yourself. Perhaps your omega physiology did too. I don't know. But without my training, without my discipline, coming out of a Lycan shift could have sent you into a blood fury. You might have killed a dozen wolves or gotten yourself killed trying to. The discipline needed to hold the form is extreme. The discipline needed to come down from the form and not destroy every living thing nearby...That is the terrible cost. It is a weapon. But it is damnation. And I never would have wanted it for you.”

Sam licked his lips. When he spoke, it was slowly, deliberately. “I want to taste blood. Wolf blood. I want to rip it from your neck. I wanted to drink it from Bobby as he lay with me yesterday. I want to go tent to tent and kill those I love until I'm sated.”

The tears began to roll fat down Castiel's cheeks. “I'm so sorry, Sam.”

“This is what you felt. At the Argos capitol. You just smelled tired and sad, but-”

“But I was using every ounce of my strength to keep from giving in to the blood fury. I was tired. And I was sad. But mostly, I was hungry. I know how to overcome that hunger, to force it back down. You've never had to. I know how to focus my energy and concentration on the way my muscles and skin want to rip and tear away and leave me in that damned form, and I know how to growl it down in silence. You, my love...I'm just so sorry.”

“How long does it last?”

The sad, desperate smile was washed in tears. “The longer I hold the form, the longer I crave battle after. You should be feeling it fade by now.”

“Maybe. Maybe a little. But it was so strong, Cas. I really thought I might hurt Bobby for a while. And just the thought of hurting you…”

“I left my pack, Sam, not because I feared for my safety after Anna’s death, but because my cousins and brothers were no longer safe from me. I wandered a city on two legs for four years, and there wasn't a single night that I didn't feel ashamed. Not until you.”

Sam's gaze had dropped, but now he raised it again to search his alpha’s face for hope. “It hurts,” he whispered. “It hurts so badly.”

Castiel began to weep in earnest now, and he folded himself prostrate on the bedroll at Sam's trembling body. “I'm so sorry, beloved!” he cried. “It's mine. It's mine, and I'm so sorry you feel it!”

“I had no idea how much pain you hide, Alpha. Please. I want to understand how to help you, how to heal you. Knowing this pain and rage is necessary for that shift, feeling what you have to feel in order to hold it...Castiel, it's breaking my heart.”

“The desire for blood, for destruction, will ease, my love. But what is necessary for the shift in the first place...I’m afraid that will always be a part of me. I have the training and discipline to bite it down-”

Sam nearly bit him down. He felt his teeth wanting to drop, his claws wanting to rend. “You can hide it! You think that's enough? You can pretend you don't hurt, that you don't want to lash out at the world. That doesn't mean it’s gone!”

“It will never be gone!” his alpha snapped. “Sam, let it go! I worked my whole life to seal in that pain and anger. It's part of me, and I’m humiliated and horrified that you can feel it, but there isn't any way to heal it. So please. Please.”

“Cas, you're my alpha!”

The words seemed to punch the last strength out of him. “Yes,” he gasped, “and I should have protected you from this. I was thinking only of protecting your body from Raphael, and I didn't consider...You ended a war with your courage and your teeth, my love, and-and I have never been so proud of anything in all my life. And I have never been so-so ashamed of myself.”

“Cas-”

The snarl wasn't meant for Sam, and he knew it, but it made his heart pound all the same. He wanted to run, but he also wanted to fight. Only the part of him that wanted to save his alpha kept him still. “Don't! Don't try to absolve me of this! I put you in danger because, in my arrogance, I assumed I could protect you if you needed me. Even when Crowley insisted on chaining me, I knew nothing would keep me from you. But in the end, it wasn't Raphael's jaws that hurt you. It was me. And reminding me that I'm your alpha, as if I could ever forget even in my darkest moment, that beautiful, courageous Sam Winchester allowed me to love him, reminding me that simply screams to me how badly I've failed you. I never should have bonded you to me, not when I know what I'm capable of.”

All at once, Sam felt the fury flush from him in a breath. His whole body released its fear and tension. He had a role here, and he knew what it was. “I know what you're capable of, Castiel.”

His alpha covered his eyes with one hand, and sobbed. 

“I know now what you feel. And I'm not ashamed of it. Cas, I'm not afraid of it.”

“You are,” he moaned. “You were afraid of me when you saw me that way, and now you know just how right you were to fear me. You'll never use that shift again; no one will. But that shift is my true form, Sam. That ugly, horrific, grotesque thing, that is me. It's-it's all I could think the first time I achieved it. This...this is the real me.”

Sam reached for him, wrapped his arms around him again. He felt Castiel try to flinch away, but he didn't let go, and his alpha surrendered. “I know what you are.”

The tears poured out along with the words. “Michael called me his trophy. I was confirmation that he was a god, because Lycan was his. But Lycan was a monster. He is the thing that should never have been. And he spawned us, the Lenore and then the Argos and all the other Shifters, and, in time, the Wargs. He wasn't a hero, Sam.”

He touched his alpha’s face gently. “You're becoming blasphemous, my love.”

A sick laugh was his response. “Am I? Then you should know that about me too. I cannot truly pray to Lycan, not when I know exactly what he was. He wasn't a wolf, Sam, and neither am I. We are fear and anger and slaughter, and others call us heroes for that. And now you know what it is you're bound to. Anna never truly knew.” His head hung miserably. “Anna was...She was proud of my strength. She didn't understand that it was borne of anguish that's been cultivated into a weapon. That it's all just wrath and rancor and hate burning through.”

“No.” 

Sad blue eyes lifted to stare. “Sam, how could I have tainted a wolf so good as you if I weren't a monster? A selfish, hateful monster. If I had any true strength or integrity, I would have never…”

“I said no. You are my everything, Castiel. And this thing you say you've done to me? I did it myself. And I will never regret that I did. I would do it again if it protected my cousins, just as you will if called upon by your pack alpha. It is not your true form-”

“Sam, it-”

The large omega turned so that he was pinning his lover onto his back. “Stop interrupting me!” he snarled. “Or so help me, I'll use this blood fury on you!”

Castiel closed his mouth at last. 

“You are not this Lycan form. It's not your true form, because I've seen that. Your true form is what you use when you're making love to me, when you curl into me in the heat of the day, and when you touch our heads together. Your true form is your loyalty to my brother, and to every wolf that cannot or will not protect itself. Like your cousin Samandriel. Ask him what your true form is, Cas! It isn't that Lycan shift. But that Lycan shift is part of you, and I will not be ashamed of it. I hate how much pain and anger you have, but the shift is just the way you use that hurt and anger. Everyone hurts, Cas! Everyone is angry. Do you think I wouldn't have used that power against Azazel years ago? Do you think Dean wouldn't use it to protect the family? Damn right he would. And he will. Because your power is his. You aren't Michael's trophy, alpha mine, you're Dean’s warrior. He values you, as do I, for everything you are.”

Castiel's gaze of adoration was breaking his heart. 

Sam sighed. “Cas, your brother treated you as an object, as a-a spectacle.”

“As a possession,” Castiel whispered. “I was his favorite toy, even before I mastered the shift. And that's why Raphael wanted me. Because it would mean he had won Michael's prize. Before I killed him, before he rebelled, my brother Lucifer spoke to me. He said that Michael used all his wolves like pieces on a board. He told me that I was the hammer that could smash all the pieces on both sides, but that in the end, I was still just a hammer.” He gasped in his breath, and began again. “And he smiled at me, and said that it was a good thing I was Michael's Claw, because I was never going to be anything to anyone else. I worked my whole life to be able to defend my family, Sam. And in that moment, I realized no one I loved thought I was capable of loving anyone.”

Sam clasped his hand tightly in both of his own. “And I told you. I know exactly what you're capable of. Castiel Argos Winchester, you are my alpha. There is no one who knows better than I do how deeply you love. Everything you have ever done-”

“Sam-”

“Alpha,” he spat, “interrupt me again, and you will have to explain to the pack leader why your ear is torn.”

Castiel sighed, and even smiled softly, but he quieted. 

The omega stood, and moved to reach for the pitcher of water on their small wooden table. He smiled when he felt his bond move behind him, rushing to get a clay cup for him. He watched Castiel as he drank his water, watched the way the strongest wolf he had ever known watched back as though Sam himself were truly his holy moon. 

When he set down the cup, he smiled down at it. 

“You can't even stand for me to have to pour my own water, Castiel.”

A stunned look came over his lover face. “I-I'm sorry. I just-But you can take care of yourself. I know that. I'm sorry.”

Sam approached to put his hands on the flushed face. “You just love me.”

“I love you so much, Sam,” he wheezed. 

“Cas, everything you have ever done in your life has been because you love so deeply. Even exiling yourself was because you were afraid for your cousins, and because you loved Michael so much you refused to believe he could be the cause of your grief. You've fought for your family, Cas, because you love them. You were offered power, more power than any wolf in a generation has been offered, an army and an impenetrable seat from which you could have orchestrated war across the whole region. But you didn't want that. Because you aren't a monster. You're a good wolf who can channel his hurt into a way to protect his family.”

“Sam…”

“Cas? I don't feel it anymore. The anger and pain. It all went away when I let it go. You're my alpha, and I will take care of you. That's my role. Yours is to let me love my alpha. He deserves to be loved.”

“May I speak?”

A smirk twisted his lips. “I don't know. I kind of like you all chastised.”

The older wolf scowled at him, then softened. “Sam, when Lucifer told me I would never be anything but an instrument in a toolbox, when Michael called me his trophy, like I was only meant to be put on display to frighten those who dared betray him...I had nothing to believe in but that. I fell for Anna when she saved me from a knife in the back. She didn't save a thing. She saved a wolf. And you, my love...Anna, and you, and your brother are the only ones who ever thought I was worth saving. That I...deserved a chance to be a part of the family I protect. Even Gabriel came to kill me, because I was a critical part of Michael's war machine and they couldn't afford for me to defect to Raphael. I would kill or die for you, omega mine. I would go hungry, and I would freeze. I do love you, with all my heart, because you prove to me every night that I have a heart.”

“You're a part of this family, Cas. You're not just a possession. You're a Winchester. And you are my wolf, but no more or less than I am yours. I claim you, Alpha. My brother claims you. You love us. And this is the part where we love you back.”


	18. In the Heat of the Day

When Raphael lunged, Sam could see the time for posturing had come and gone. Unlike many wolf fights, this was about blood. Castiel’s plan had succeeded, and Raphael had been forced to react. There would be no recovery for the high alpha now, no matter the outcome of the brawl. Now there was nothing left but to survive the attack of this brutal fighter.

He took the first injury of many almost immediately, and if it weren't for Castiel’s coaching and his own speed, it might have ended the fight before it had truly begun. Raphael's massive jaws had sought his throat with no pretense.

Castiel had told him it would begin that way. “If Raphael allows himself to be baited into a fight, he will waste no time going for your throat. It will be his first move. He's an adept fighter, and an efficient one. Every snap of his teeth will be a lethal blow if it lands properly. The most important thing is to keep any of his strikes from landing properly.”

Sam had heeded the warning, and had moved his mass to the side just enough to cause the alpha to miss his mark. It was a nasty gash instead of the death blow it could have been.

John Winchester’s training was invaluable now. He could hear his father's voice in his head. “Use your weight, Sam,” the ghost growled. “Your brother will always be stronger, but that doesn't mean he will always win. Use what you have. Your brain and your size.”

Sam had felt new energy pulsing through him, and he knew the transfer was working. He had no time to breathe, let alone determine how best to use this new strength. It would all have to be instinctive. If he tried to change his fighting style to match his new ability, it would only make him second-guess himself. There was no time for that. He had more strength and speed for combat, but he would continue to rely on what he knew, what he had always had. His brain and his size. And something even his father hadn't understood. Everyone underestimated an omega in battle.

So it shocked Raphael when Sam leapt atop him, and the gnashing of teeth and claws became a wrestling match instead. Sam could feel Raphael trying to rely on his finesse and training, but Sam had been taught differently than this elite warrior. Sam had learned that there was no such thing as a fair fight to the death. Once lives were on the line, no holds were barred, and may Fenris have mercy on the soul of any wolf who thought a Winchester would fight by any rules under those circumstances. Every time Raphael tried to regain his dominant position above Sam, the omega slammed him into the ground ruthlessly.

A terrific crack filled the air as at least two of Raphael's ribs gave under Sam's knees. He could see the fury and agony in the older wolf’s eyes, but the world was becoming red around them. Sam could no longer feel his own injuries. His arms felt as though they had lengthened impossibly, that his muscle was straining through his skin. He had meant to shift down now that Raphael was on his back and vulnerable to a bite, but he felt trapped in a state somewhere between his wolf and his man, between Heaven and Hell, between Fenris and Cerebus.

Sam broke into Raphael like he was nothing more than a bird he had hunted down. He could hear Castiel murmuring, from somewhere far enough away that he shouldn't have been able to perceive him at all.

“What's the matter, Raphael? Somebody clip your wings?”

That was when Sam looked down to find horror and panic in his victim’s eyes. He reared up to roar, his claws extended and teeth glinting in the darkness. Every wolf and warg took a step back, and that filled Sam with even more thrilling power. He threw back his head and gave a howl unlike any he had ever heard before, then he brought his claws down with all the strength in his powerful chest and arms and slammed his open hand into Raphael's face. The claws sliced through the skin, and the force broke the wolf’s neck, and there was no telling what killed him first.

Sam rose with a horrific howl of triumph, and stood in his strange form for everyone to see. Raphael's chest was opened up, his face was unrecognizable, and he stank of death.

Sam turned to Castiel, who was struggling against his chains. “You shouldn't have done this to me. You can't stop me.”

Castiel had screamed, pulling against the chains in horror. “No! Sam, no! It's over! Stand down, my love!”

“If you could have gotten loose from those restraints, you might have stopped me.”

They looked around them to find every wolf and warg in a river of thick blood.

“No,” Castiel breathed.

“You should have stopped me. You know what it does to you. You think you're the only one who hurts? The only one who's angry?”

“Sam…”

Then Sam leapt upon another wolf who dared appear before them. Castiel watched, helpless, as Sam tore into his brother just as soullessly as he had killed the others.

“He's not an enemy!”

“You think that matters now? You think I care what I'm killing? I'm Sam fucking Winchester, and I'm beholden to nothing! And now it's down to you, and I'll slaughter you just as I have the rest!”

***

Sam awoke with a whimper.

His lover startled awake and shifted quickly. “Are you all right?”

The omega took several long breaths, and stretched himself onto two legs. “Fenris, Lycan, and Cerebus, Castiel!” he swore.

Blue eyes shot open wide. “What is it?”

He shook his head. “I just dreamed of the fight. And-and everything happened just as it did, right up until I killed Raphael, and...and then I didn't stop. You didn't get out of your restraints, you didn't center me.”

Castiel let his gaze narrow. “Center you?”

“You did. Just like yesterday when I felt the anger and pain fade when I realized I had to be present for you. Back there, in the Darkness, our bond saved me. If you hadn't been so afraid for me that you broke out of your chains, I-I don't know if I would have stopped with Raphael. In my dream, I didn't. I killed them all, Cas. Even Dean. Even...even you.”

The older wolf nodded slowly. “You would have stopped, beloved. I know you would have.”

“I'm still glad you were there, so I didn't have to find out. We talked about omegas balancing an alpha’s aggression. It must work the other way too. You saved my soul, Cas.”

“It was only a daymare, omega mine.”

“Maybe. But daymares can become nightmares, can become something real to fear in the waking world. And I'm just glad this one didn't.”

Castiel watched him for a moment, then kissed his lips gently. “I'm proud of you, Sam. I can't tell you how proud you make me.”

The words filled him with peace, and he shifted down to snuggle into his alpha without another word. Castiel shifted with contentment and put his paw around his lover protectively. Nothing else needed to be said till dusk.


	19. Dusk of a New Era

He knew Gwen was watching him with her cute little smirk. He didn't care. “You got it?” he said softly.

Samandriel smiled and nodded. He took the tea and sipped at it, then wrinkled his nose. “It's awful,” he whispered.

Gwen laughed. “Yeah, and that's after I doctored it up to hide the taste.”

The omega sighed. “It's okay. If you think it'll help me be a better packmate, I'm all for it, no matter the taste.”

Benny felt his heart lurch. “No! No, little one. It ain't that. It's just about you feeling better. Honest.”

“I know I'm just a burden. Michael didn't order my death because I was meant to contribute to the pack as an example of what happens to those who disobey. Here, I've got no contribution at all.”

Gwen patted her mate on the arm. “I'm gonna go help Bobby with some research. You two talk.” She gave him an order with her sharp eyes, then slipped out of the tent she and Samandriel shared most nights.

Benny knew it was silly to be anxious, but he couldn't help it. He had never been alone in this tent with Samandriel before. It still made his tongue dry and his heart pound to be alone with Gwen. This development seemed even more bewildering to the big brute.

“Thank you for this, Benny,” the omega said in that quiet voice that always seemed to be asking a question.

He cleared his throat. “‘Course. Ain't nobody in the camp that don't want you feeling safe and healed up. And don't worry about your contribution. Some wolves, their job is just to be, and by being, the whole world is better because of it.”

Samandriel smiled up at him with adoration bordering on amusement. “So it's all right that I'm useless?”

He flushed pink, wondering if he had said the wrong thing. “Now, I don't mean nothing of the sort. You're a damn smart wolf, and no mistake. Don't fret about a job yet, but when you're feeling up to it, I thought you might tell me some things you like doing, and we can find something for you that matches it.”

“I like pups. It was my job to care for the pups in our family…” Pain tore across his face. He tried to smile again. “I mean that I used to like caring for pups. The den mothers used to like having my help.”

“We got pups!” Benny blurted out. “Tons of them! In fact, Dean and Lisa are going to be about ready for a new litter I would think, maybe in the next year. Another mess of true Winchester babies all needing a patient caretaker so Lisa don't lose her mind. The older guys will take all of Bobby and Sam's time. Second litter never gets the same attention, Gwen says.”

Samandriel beamed at him. “And what about you and Gwen? Will there be pups to care for in this tent?”

His heart was racing. “I...Now, I don't know. I mean, maybe. I guess I never really-I mean, I want that, always sort of dreamed it, but I never thought I'd ever have a line. Never thought I'd ever have a chance at it.”

Those eyes searched straight through to his soul. “But why? Benny, you are the kindest wolf I've ever known. Why would you say you didn't expect to have a bloodmate and father pups someday?”

“Because who would want me?” he asked incredulously. “I gotta remind myself everyday that Gwen even lets me speak to her. I don't think I'll never wake up and believe I'm mated to her!”

The omega giggled to himself. “She loves you!”

“And ain't that kind of hard to believe?” He shook his head. “I remember first getting taken in by Winchesters, and thinking nothing could be better than being a part of this family. I eyed Gwen from a distance for a long time, but I never expected...When Dean suggested the pairing, I nearly bit through my own tongue. I didn't even know he was thinking of me mating any of his wolves. I'm Winchester, sure, but my bloodline ain't exactly nothing to be proud of. I counted myself lucky to be here at all, let alone given permission to court the sweetest bitch in the pack. And when she said she'd have me…” Benny shook his head in amazement. “Anyway, you can see I ain't done being shocked I'm mated to her. Thinking of raising pups with her just...seems impossible.”

Samandriel was grinning at him in the same sort of way Gwen sometimes did, when he looked up.

“What?” he demanded self-consciously.

“Nothing. I just think maybe you should start considering it possible before too long.”

Benny shrugged. “Maybe one day. Ain't no hurry. It's all up to Gwen what she wants. I'm just grateful she lets me watch over her. And...and you too. Not that...I just mean…”

“Benny? Are you going to make me your omega bond?”

His breath stopped and his lips parted in surprise. When he tried to speak, he found himself speaking with a voice he didn't even recognize. “What? With me? I'm not-I mean, it's a little soon to be-And I can't make you my bond. I can only ask you to be my-But I won't take advantage of you being new to the pack. You haven't even met everyone, and you're injured, and I wouldn't want you to think you had any obligation to me just because I brought you here…”

“I don't feel obligated,” Samandriel corrected firmly. “I feel wanted. I feel loved. I feel safe. You smell right, Benny. Gwen gave it her blessing. We're friends. I like her. And if you like me too, if you think I'm worth the effort-”

“Worth the effort!” Benny stared in open awe. “Don't you know you're the sweetest, smartest omega, the nicest, the strongest-You're just the most gorgeous, the most-Little one, you would be the pride and peace of any alpha! You don't gotta settle for a beast like me!”

And there was that smile again. “I want to be yours. Just like Gwen wants to be yours. Just like you're ours. Everyone knows you're ours. You say I haven't met anyone, but I have, and everyone in the pack knows where you belong. And Gwen is working on your first litter, Alpha, so now would be the time for you to just make it official. You will want to be past the new bond hormonal changes before the daddy ones kick in.”

Benny's mind was entirely made of mush at this point. He tried breathing, but it was out of rhythm. “You-you saying Gwen is pregnant? But...I only-just for the bloodmating ritual that one time, and-and then I been too afraid of pushing my luck to-You want to be my omega? You'd let me bond you to me, and you'd care for Gwen’s babies? Gwen’s having babies?”

Samandriel’s laugh was a lovely thing. He put down his tea, and took Benny's large paws in his warm hands. “I'll take that as a proposal. Yes. I'll be your bond, and Gwen's caretaker. She and I have talked about it every night this quarter cycle, since she realized she was pregnant with your pups. So spend some time getting used to the idea, because we are already far ahead of you in planning. We love you, Alpha, but you better pick up the pace if you're going to keep up.”

It was the gentlest, most wonderful challenge of his life, and Benny knew in his heart he was ready to rise to it.


	20. Fin

Dean sighed at Bobby wearily. “Thanks for being here. I feel better just knowing you're in camp.”

The old wolf nodded. “‘Course you do. And I like visiting Ellen, but this is where I belong. Your pups wouldn't give me a minute of peace all day. Little mongrels,” he added fondly. 

The alpha smiled. “They missed you. Lisa and I missed you. And I think Sammy's grateful to not be the senior omega in the camp for a while. He's probably had enough of pack wars and politics. You'd be real proud of the way he stepped up this cycle, Bobby.”

“I'm real proud of the way you stepped up this cycle, High Alpha.”

Green eyes met the old wolf’s, and they searched for the truth behind the statement. “Don't call me that. Not you. You know what I really am. I'm a pup playing at being my dad. We both know that.”

“You're a better wolf than your father ever was. A better pack alpha too.”

Disbelief clouded his mind, and he tried to scowl, but he wanted Bobby's pride in him so badly that he couldn't dismiss it completely. 

Bobby put his hand on the younger shifter’s arm. “I'm proud of you, son. You protected all your packs, and the humans too, and you did it with as little blood as possible.”

“I lost Pastor,” he choked out. “A whole pack, wiped out.”

His mentor nodded again and patted his arm. “I know. And we all felt that deep. But, Dean, that was what the humans call a sucker punch, and you did what you had to in order to secure every wolf you had left. Samuel Campbell would have dove into a war nobody could win. We'd be fighting the Argos, the wargs, the Lenore. Your daddy...I knew your daddy better than you did, Dean. And I'm telling you, you did good. I'm proud of Sam. I'm proud of you. And we're stronger than we've ever been. So you keep doing what your heart and Sam's nose tells you, and we'll all be just fine in the cycles to come.”

He smiled shakily. “You going to help me with the treaties? I'm calling an all-pack convention, I better know what I'm doing. Never wanted to have to go to one of those, let alone host one.”

“You really inviting that warg monstrosity?”

“I think Crowley's got as much right to be there as any of us. Besides, I want him where I can watch him. He's got more than one pack under him, like we do.”

Bobby shook his head. “Okay. If you say so. ‘Course I'll help you with the negotiations. Think I'm leaving that all up to an alpha’s attention span?” He snorted at the thought. 

Dean laughed, and ran his hand through his hair. “I'm bringing every paper to you and Sam, and I'm going to run out and chase rabbits while you two pour through it all.”

“If that's what you want to believe is going to happen, you keep lying to yourself, pup.”

He clapped Bobby on the back, and said goodnight. He let his silent guard outside the tent lead his mentor to Lisa's tent where his pups awaited their favorite grouchy old wolf. 

The treaty convention would be a pain, but he would get through it. He had already sent Garth, and had Cole send Richie, to greet the new alpha of the Angeles pack, which was rising from the ashes of Raphael Argos. Castiel had insisted that Ezekiel was an honorable wolf, and Dean was hopeful. Sending an ambassador with a personal invitation to attend the gathering of pack alphas would show Dean what he needed to know about this new piece on the chessboard. 

Ezekiel Angeles, Crowley Vargr, Gabriel Argos, each of Dean's pack alphas, including Cole Trenton, Victor Henriksen, Ellen Harvelle, and Kevin Tran, and close partners like Cesar Cuevas, would all convene to discuss trade agreements, relations with humans, inter-pack laws, and treaties to end the wars among the Argos and Angeles packs. Everything would be hashed out and argued over, from settlements to water rights. 

The inter-pack laws would need to be revised. For one thing, Dean had a thing or two to say about disgraceful old ways still being practiced, such as exchanging of paws to seal alliances, and torturing of wolves in underground dungeons, and punishing omegas, females and pups for their alphas’ crimes. Practices such as these needed to end with the deaths of the old generation. Dean didn't let wolves suffer. Not in his pack, and not in any pack. It wasn't right, it wasn't natural, and he was going to make sure it stopped. 

As for trade negotiations, Victor and Ellen would be excellent at that. And Kevin had suggested an exchange of caretakers among packs, to learn from other customs and practices. Dean thought that was a worthy idea. Kevin had several caretakers ready to commit to the project, and Castiel thought that Gabriel might be willing to part with a particularly progressive-admittedly abrasive-female called Flagstaff, and that Ezekiel’s bloodmate Hannah would be a good choice as well, along with the strange mother of the Vargr king. The thought of all these caretakers in different settings, learning and teaching what they could, made Dean hopeful, as well as anxious. Bobby had calmed that fear with logic. “We all benefit from knowing what the other packs know. And that means we got to give up a little of what we know too. Not everything. But a little.” Dean agreed, and put Kevin in charge of proposing it to the other alphas. 

Cole had sent word through his brother that Trenton was ready to receive older pups for training again. Dean had talked with Bobby, and they had decided to give Pastor’s land to Adam and Jake to split between them, and he would send Travis to help. Each of the young alphas had been told to gather to them a small pack from among Dean’s wolves to make the territory a home again. Dean had held his breath as he watched them each draw up a list of wolves to approach with an invitation to join them. He was torn between wanting the old Pastor lands secure and successful, and not wanting to lose good wolves from his own camp. 

In the end, Jo and Mark chose to go with Jake, and that didn't surprise Dean. Jo wanted to be closer to Harvelle, and Mark’s brothers were gone. The Campbell blood was thin now in the Winchester camp. They were ready to start over somewhere new. He was a little surprised, though, to find that Charlie Tran and Andy Tran had agreed to join Adam. He smirked to himself as he considered the fun they would have on the way, trying to make Mark talk. Aaron Henriksen learned that Andy would be there, and had quickly requested a transfer to Adam’s territory. The younger son of John would use his mother's name, of course, and Pastor would become the Milligan and Talley packs. Ava Tran followed Jake, as did Lily Harvelle. 

He had frowned at one name. “I can't let that one go.”

Adam had laughed, but Jake frowned. “You said we could ask anyone in any of the packs. I need fighters in my territory, Alpha.” 

“Get some. But not that one.”

“Might as well have asked for Sam and Castiel Argos,” Adam scoffed at his friend under his breath. 

Jake stood firm. “It's his choice, isn't it? You always said a wolf in your pack could come and go freely, and so long as they returned to the territory for the moon-”

Dean put his hands up. “Fine. Ask him. You're right. It's his choice. He's got a new family. Maybe he wants a new start in a new territory.”

The young alpha grinned. Dean wanted to smack the triumph off his face. 

Benny laughed so hard that Dean could hear the roar from his own tent. He smiled to himself. Benny would always be Dean's wolf. 

Sam slipped into the tent while Dean was pouring through registries of wolves and families in each territory, memorizing and correcting and adding bloodmates and omega bonds and new pups, as well as deaths. 

“This cycle was rough on those registries, wasn't it?” he murmured. 

Dean gave him a soft smile. “I know they're all in Bobby's official records, or they will be by the next moon. But I gotta write it out myself or I won't remember every detail, you know? There's a lot of transfers and...and, yeah. I lost a lot of wolves the past few weeks.” 

“I'm so sorry, Dean.”

He put down his pen and stood to stretch high over his head. “Yeah. But you know, I've had more appeals for mates and bonds this cycle than I think I ever had in one moon before. And I got a lot of pregnant females out there. This cycle might have been hard in terms of loss, but it's been good for making families. I don't know if it was the impending doom of war or just so much unusual mixing of splinter packs, but I'm going to have a lot of babies next spring.”

Sam laughed delightedly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He sat on the chair again, and gestured for Sam to sit, then pulled out two clay tumblers and one of the bottles Ellen had sent by Bobby. “Best part of the job, you know?”

“What's that?” Sam asked, though it was clear by his smiling eyes that he knew. 

“Every quarter moon, there's a reunion, and I get to see how my family has changed and grown. Pups old enough to give fealty for the first time. New pups presented for the first time. Pups that couldn't change out of their wolves a cycle before, talking and laughing. The blood mating ritual and bonding ceremonies. The honoring of packmates who didn't see the next moon. Older wolves agreeing to new apprentices. Friends and cousins reunited. Even the occasional stray brought in from the cold.”

Sam smiled into his cup. 

“I sit here and rewrite registers all night, till my eyes burn, but every night, there's something new to record. I could just leave it to Bobby, but it's my reminder of why I do what I do. Why we do what we do.”

His brother threw back the rest of his drink, and gave him a mischievous grin. “Want to drop everything and go for a hunt?”

Dean set his pen in his book. “Hell yeah.”

***

Castiel turned to Benny. “Shouldn't one of us be out there with them?”

But the large beast smiled after the two gray tails disappearing into the night. “No. All they ever needed was each other. We’ll be here when they get back, and if they ever howl…”

“We’ll be at their side in a heartbeat,” Castiel finished firmly. 

Benny slapped his friend on the back. “Damn right, brother.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thus ends the series Pack Wars, and I truly appreciate my readers who have enjoyed watching the brothers lead their pack over these long chapters. 
> 
> ~Posing


End file.
